Branded Heart
by Black Hawk
Summary: "You have no individuality," he shouted as he continued cutting off the knots of hair. "You have no name. You are property and belong to your master and mistress. You live and die by their will."
1. I Stumbling

Disclaimer: I do not own_ Stargate Atlantis _or its original characters and I am making no money off of this.

_**Author's Note:**_ You can also read this story with music and pictures at my site: http colon, slash, slash, brandedheart1. angelfire. com / BrandedHeart. html without the spaces and such, of course.

It should also be noted that this story contains elements of adult subject matter.

This story is being posted as part of SAWS – Spanky A Week Summer – where there is a Spanky (Teyla/Ronon) fic posted each Monday!

**Branded Heart**

**I. Stumbling**

"One hundred! One hundred! Do I hear one fifty?!" The auctioneer pointed to a man who raised his hand. "One fifty! Do I hear two hundred? More than a fair asking price for this woman." The man grabbed at Teyla's bicep and she jerked her arm away, making her metal chains rattle. "Look at those muscles, folks, and spunk, too. She could work all day," he paused as he leaned towards the crowd below the scaffold, tipping his straw hat. "And still have plenty of fire at night, if you know what I mean." He winked and several in the crowd chuckled as another took the bid for two hundred.

Shackled and chained in the shadows of the holding cell behind and below the platform, Ronon growled and took a step forward, grabbing the bars of the cage as one of the handlers gave him a warning look.

"Two fifty! Two fifty! Do I hear two fifty? Two fifty! Thank you, sir. Three hundred! Three hundred! Do I hear three hundred?" The auctioneer's voice wafted back to the Satedan who clenched his jaw, his biceps flexing as he struggled to deal with his caged rage.

"Four hundred!" The tall, thin man on the scaffold shouted. "Sold for four hundred to the woman in the blue bonnet!" The woman dipped her head with a small smile as Teyla was ushered off of the platform, marked with a tag on her shackles then shoved into another holding cell along with the rest of the sold slaves.

Ronon was able to make eye contact with her for a heartbeat before the door to his cell was yanked open with a grating scream and several handlers stepped forward, leveling electrical prods at his side in warning. He narrowed his eyes at the nearest lad with a pronged prod then was yanked forward by a burly man with sweat trails down his sides. The Satedan grunted and yanked his shackled hands back to his chest as the thicker man yanked him towards the stairs. Within a breath-span, one of the young men had slugged him in the stomach with the edge of a prod and he doubled over with a cough, hunching as he was tugged up the stairs and onto the platform.

Ronon squinted in the sudden sunlight as he stepped through the door onto the scaffolding. "Well, well, well, folks, what do we have here?" the auctioneer was playfully announcing as Ronon was shoved to the side. He straightened, squinting down at the gathered crowd below him as they murmured. The auctioneer began again. "The starting price for this young buck is two hundred! Two hundred, folks! That's more than fair for this lad – his height alone should ask for a starting price of three hundred but we at Swanton's Slave Traders have always prided ourselves in fair prices." He prodded Ronon's bicep with the butt of his cane and the Satedan's shoulders lunged towards the man in warning, causing him to laugh nervously. "This one's got fire in him, too. Perfect for field or orchard work! Do I hear two fifty?"

The woman who had bought Teyla raised her card as she fanned herself.

"Oh ho ho," teased the auctioneer. "First bid goes to the lovely lady, what a surprise. Three hundred, do I hear three hundred?"

Ronon's eyes had adjusted as best they could in the noon sunlight and they searched the crowd, looking for a teammate or a friendly face. He craned his neck over his shoulder to try and see Teyla in the cell below the scaffold as the price rose to four hundred but the light blinded him and he had to squint his eyes shut and turn away.

"Four fifty! Do I hear four fifty? Four fifty!" The thin legged man pointed to the woman who had bought Teyla as she bid on him again. "Do I hear five hundred? Five hundred? Do I hear five hundred?!" Ronon was trying to discern the features of the woman's face but the sun was too bright on her pale skin. "Sold for four fifty to the woman in the blue bonnet! An excellent choice, if I do say so myself, madam. These two slaves make quite the pair!"

A small tendril of relief coursed through the Satedan upon knowing that at the least he and Teyla would not be separated, but the emotion was short-lived as he nearly stumbled down the wooden stairs when the burly handler shoved him forward. His chains were tagged identically to Teyla's before he was pushed into the crowded holding cell with her and the other slaves.

Teyla pushed her way forward towards her teammate once the door was locked shut again. "Ronon?"

He turned at her voice and looked her up and down in a glance, making sure she was unharmed. He looked to the label on her chains then lifted his shackles to show her his matching one. "We were bought by the same woman."

The Athosian's shoulders slumped as she let out a breath. "Thank goodness."

"Yeah." He nodded as another woman who was looking at their tags glanced to Ronon.

"I'm the same as you."

The two from Atlantis turned to look at the woman. Her face was weatherworn and her almond skin etched with lines.

Teyla offered her a small smile. "What is your name?"

The woman's blue eyes searched Teyla's strangely for a moment before she said, "I can't have babies anymore" and turned away, chewing on a dirty fingernail.

Teyla and Ronon furrowed their brows and shared a concerned look. As the auction wore on, the purchased slaves began to pace while they had room until the holding cell was too full. After what seemed like hours, the auction finally finished and festive music began to echo from the streets. The buyers milled about near the holding cells, lining up to hand over their stubs and pay for their new investments.

Ronon caught sight of the woman who had bought both he and Teyla and he glanced over his shoulder at his teammate, keeping his voice quiet and low. "Teyla, come here."

She shouldered past a few others to stand beside him then followed his gaze to the woman in the blue bonnet. She was fanning herself, laughing as she chatted with an acquaintance. "She appears to have a kind face."

Ronon nodded mutely, hoping he and Teyla could reason with her to escape their imprisonment. "Maybe we can-" he cut himself off as she began to make her way over to the cell for the rest of the slaves fell into a respectful silence. She flashed the prod-wielding guards her card and they nodded before opening the cage and elbowing through, yanking out the correctly-labeled people.

Neither Teyla nor Ronon resisted when they were hauled to stand before the woman with the other three slaves she had bought. Her blue eyes narrowed at the group in scrutiny then waved at the guards accompanying her to escort her merchandise to her waiting carriage outside of the auction grounds. Teyla and Ronon stayed close to each other as they passed children playing games in the streets and adults who paid the passing slaves no heed.

As they waited for the guard to unlock the door of the barred carriage, Teyla caught the woman's eye and smiled tentatively. "Excuse me, Miss, but I am afraid there has been a-" she was cut off when one of the guards backhanded her across the cheek and Teyla's lips parted in pain and shock.

"Don't you dare touch her," Ronon growled as he shoved forward. The woman eyed him coolly as the second guard pressed the tip of the prod to his side, making him cry out in pain as he was shocked by sizzling tendrils.

Teyla gasped and looked between the woman and Ronon, struggling for the breath to voice her protest but the blonde raised a white-lace gloved hand with a quiet, "Stop" and the guard pulled the prod away from the Satedan's side. Ronon fell to his knees with a strangled gasp, holding his side around the injury as Teyla shifted her wide-eyed gaze to the woman. Her thin, blonde brows had come together in an ugly line as she nodded to a guard who yanked Ronon's head up by the hair, forcing him to look at her while the other guard kicked the back of Teyla's knees, forcing her to kneel.

The blonde stepped up to Ronon first and locked eyes with him, then to Teyla, doing the same, before stepping back and eyeing them both for a heartbeat before speaking. Her voice was firm. "You will _only _speak when spoken to. You are the property of me and my husband and I will tolerate _no_insubordination of any kind," she paused, locking eyes with Ronon who was still being forced to look at her. "No matter how your wench is being treated. Is that clear?"

When neither Teyla nor Ronon nodded their agreement both winced as their hair was yanked.

"I said," she continued, stepping up to the two. "Is that clear?"

The guard behind Teyla wrenched her arm awkwardly behind her and she cried out in pain.

The woman's face remained impassive as she backed up, fanning herself once more. "Good." She jerked her head at the guards. "Get them in."

Teyla and Ronon were yanked to their feet and shoved into the carriage first, stumbling onto their knees under the low roof of the cage. The blonde tipped the guards a few shiny coins then climbed into the front of the carriage after the other three slaves had been loaded on. Ronon was sitting with his shoulder resting against the front wall of the cell, panting lightly as sweat beaded on his forehead. As the animals pulling the carriage started forward, Teyla locked eyes with Ronon then wordlessly reached for the hem of his shirt. He pulled his arms away to allow her to lift it, both swaying from the motion of the crude transport. A fist-sized portion of the skin on his side was an inflamed red with a swelling welt from the weapon. She let his shirt fall back into place as she looked to his face again. "The damage does not look severe."

He shook his head a little, muttering "...Just hurts."

Her brown eyes were locked onto his in concern but his shied from hers, eyeing the rest of the silent slaves who were gazing at them with furtive, uneasy glances. She looked over her shoulder at the others in the carriage, as well, then looked back to Ronon with a wary expression that matched his before she slumped onto the seat of her pants, resting her back against the front wall of the cage with a sigh.

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	2. II Quivering

**II. Quivering**

The carriage passed field after filed of crops as it approached the large plantation house at the center of several dirt roads. Slaves worked the fields tirelessly, their backs bent and glistening with sweat when bare and stained when clothed, cloth clinging to muscled frames. Slave drivers strolled the gravel roads on horseback, whips coiled and ready at their sides as they watched the slaves. Waves of heat shimmered, distorting the view of the fields and Teyla shook her head incredulously, anxiety gnawing at her gut. "How could they treat others like this?"

Ronon watched a young boy help his mother harvest a crop of fruit, his face grimy and shining with sweat, and then slowly shook his head. "Even the Wraith don't do this."

She exhaled nervously, glancing at the way they'd come. "We must attempt to get word out to Colonel Sheppard as soon as possible."

"I agree," Ronon said as the carriage ground to a halt beside several poorly-maintained wooden shacks and waiting slave drivers. The men strolled up to the carriage after it halted. The gate was opened and the five were ushered out in a line. Ronon and Teyla were at the back of the column and as soon as the carriage was vacated it continued on to bear the blue bonnet woman to the large house.

"Form a line," one of the drivers was drawling as he paced, cradling a prod and sounding bored. "Follow me."

Ronon let Teyla step before him so that he could watch over her from behind. The driver led the line to the back of one of the buildings where what was once a small fire was smoldering and two other drivers were waiting. Their leader lazily turned, halting the shackled group, then in his husky voice called out, "Who's first?"

No one moved and the woman Teyla and Ronon had spoken to back at the auction was whimpering. The lead driver spat then looked at Ronon under the brim of his hat. The Satedan met his gaze, looking impassively down at the shorter man. The driver stroked his dark mustache then nodded his head towards him. "You look like trouble. You go first."

Ronon glanced around at the armed drivers as they stepped forward and grabbed the chains on his wrists. He stepped with them easily, searching the scene for some clue as to what to expect. His heart rate quickened as he watched a driver languidly pull the handle of a glowing brand out of the smoking embers and turn to face him. Ronon immediately yanked back, jerking the two drivers with him, making them stumble as he tried to escape the man advancing upon him with a brand.

The lead driver hollered and the two struggling with the Satedan kicked the back of his legs until they forced him to his knees. One yanked his wrists forward, straining his elbow joints as two others held him in place by his shoulders and hair. Teyla's eyes widened as the man with the brand approached him, rattling her own chains as she struggled to restrain her desire to fight off the drivers. Ronon ground his molars together and growled in frustration as he tried to shove against the hands restraining him.

He howled a scream as the man with the brand yanked his top to the side and pressed the hot end to the back of his shoulder. Smoke rose with the Satedan's yowls as the brand was removed, leaving a blood red mark the shape of an S with two triangles angled off the sides, like a winged snake. Ronon's scream tapered into a squeaky gasp after the scalding metal was removed. His shoulders sagged as the drivers released him, shoving him forward before pouring a ladleful of water onto his new wound then letting him alone to cringe and shiver while they yanked Teyla forward.

She weakly resisted, knowing it was futile and attempting to steel herself against the coming onslaught of pain. Ronon squeezed his eyes shut as Teyla screamed a primal cry of agony. She managed to silence herself as her wound was doused with water before she was allowed to stumble to Ronon's side. Her hair was in her face as she hunched, panting, but when she looked up to his gaze and he saw the stubborn determination of her brown eyes, he was reassured by her graceful strength.

* * *

The sun soon set and the two were subjected to a disgraceful examination where each was prodded by the drivers' hands to assess their health. Night had fallen and the temperature was dropping by the time they were unshackled and shoved into their sleeping quarters. Teyla caught onto Ronon as the door was locked behind her. He reached out a hand to steady her, glancing at the pale outline of the door then turning to face the darkness of the building. The deep breathing of a dozen slumbering bodies echoed and the two hesitated in moving, not wanting to step on anyone in the dark. Through the cracks in the planks of the wall they could discern that the dirt floor on the end was unoccupied They slowly made their way along the wall to the edge of the building.

Easing into a sitting position in the dirt, Ronon looked out of one of the cracks, his breath clouding before him. All he could see beyond a trodden path were the stalks of the crop bordering their sleeping quarters. Teyla sighed as she sat down beside him, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears and wincing as the movement made her shoulder throb. A hound trotted by outside and Ronon pulled away from the crack, looking to Teyla. He could barely discern her arm in the moonlight shed by the cracks in the plank wall. "How's your shoulder?" he whispered.

She glanced to his silhouette. "It still pains me greatly, but it will heal. And yours?"

He sighed. "Same."

She glanced around, barely able to discern the sleeping forms of her fellows. She looked back to her teammate. "Do you think John will be able to find us here?"

Ronon shook his head. "I don't know. I hope so." He paused as someone stirred in their sleep then leaned in closer to Teyla so that he could speak more quietly. "We might not even be on the same planet as the one we were darted on."

She exhaled, rubbing her neck where the dart had struck her a day or so ago. "I am not even certain that I know how much time has passed."

"Neither am I." His eyes searched the roof but he could only see a few shafts of pale light. "But I'm sure not keen on the idea of serving another again."

Teyla nodded in understanding, lost in thought. "I feel we must endure until Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay find us."

He groaned lightly as he lay down on his left side with his back to the wall since his right was burnt. "Let's hope that's soon."

"I agree," she breathed as she lay down beside him, also on her left side.

The two fell silent, the breathing of the others in the quarters lulling them into a fitful sleep. Yet the temperature continued to drop until there was a light coating of frost outside. Ronon cracked his eyes open, shivering lightly. Teyla was still beside him and the moonlight on her shoulder revealed that she was quivering. He knew that they would need all of their strength to face whatever unknown trials the next day held, so he shrugged off propriety and closed the distance between them, pressing his body against the back of hers and wrapping his arms around her middle. Their combined body heat soon began to warm him and his shivering slowly abated.

Teyla's soft, "Thank you" surprised him for he had thought she was asleep.

Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against the back of her head, sighing as sleep finally became obtainable.

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	3. III Pulsing

**III. Pulsing**

Teyla closed her eyes for a heartbeat, breathing out an exhausted sigh in the midday heat, her pricked fingers stinging from sweat

Teyla closed her eyes for a heartbeat, breathing out an exhausted sigh in the midday heat, her pricked fingers stinging from sweat. Ronon waved a stinging insect away as he continued to work, harvesting the fruit from the thorny plants before them. She opened her eyes and began picking again. She was tempted to eat one of the red fruits for the water she knew it held but earlier in the week she had seen a child beaten by a driver for doing just that. She didn't dare risk it.

Ronon stole a glance at the mounted taskmaster as he trotted past. When he was out of earshot he bent over to pick a fruit, whispering to Teyla. "It's been a week."

She sighed, glancing furtively at the other slaves. There were snitches among them who would happily point out any gossiping slaves for the drivers to punish. "I know. But we must be patient."

Ronon's whisper was more of a growl as he accidentally pricked his finger yet again. "I've been just about as patient as I can be."

"We have no choice."

"Of course we do." They paused as they shuffled further down the row and another slave passed them.

She avoided eye contact, disguising their conversation. "What are you suggesting?"

"We fight."

One of the slaves across the field broke into song and within a few words most of the others had joined in. Ronon and Teyla looked around at them then used the others' singing as further cover for their conversation. She glanced to him. "And how do you suggest we do that? We have no weapons and these people are not warriors, Ronon. They are frightened."

He dumped a handful of fruit into his carrying sack. "All the more reason to fight. Start an uprising."

Teyla eyed him in a sideways glance then looked away. "I also want to help these people, but the best course of action is to remain cooperative and unnoticed until Colonel Sheppard-"

"What if Sheppard isn't coming?" his voice was a low hiss, earning another look from her. "It's next to impossible for him to find us. We don't even know where we are."

"Getting ourselves killed in a battle that we cannot win will not help, either," she hissed back.

"Well, we have to do something." He glanced over at a young woman being shoved about teasingly by a driver who was laughing. The way the man's hands landed on the girl made Ronon sneer. "I can't take much more of this and there's no telling what they'll do to you in time."

Teyla furrowed her brow and followed his gaze, her face softening with gravity as she realized what he was insinuating. She glanced to him again, resting her hand on his lower back for a heartbeat. "Thank you for your concern, but I can defend myself."

He arched a brow, remembering what happened when she was under the influence of the Wraith queen on the drilling platform. "Yeah, I know. But still..." he trailed off, memories of his torture at the hands of the Wraith flitting through his mind. "No one should have to have anything forced upon them." He intentionally broke off a branch of the crop and flung it into the dirt.

She glanced at the branch then back to her own work. "I am well aware of our situation, Ronon."

"Well if we can't fight then maybe I can escape and come back with help."

She shook her head. "It is too big of a risk. It has only been a week. We should continue to wait for rescue."

Ronon sighed and fell silent. Assured that she had sated his urge for action for the time being, she shifted her focus to the lyrics of the song.

"When I was just a little baby

Sittin' on my daddy's knee,

I looked at a songbird flying free

And said, 'Daddy that bird's just like me...'"

* * *

Watching her waste away a little more each day as time passed and feeling his own spirit giving in to the monotony of their servitude was enough to make any course of action, no matter how desperate, seem critical to survival. To make matters worse, he had caught more than one of the drivers eyeing Teyla in the same manner that they eyed the other women they forced into their beds. His arm unconsciously tightened around her as she slept, gently teasing her awake.

She shifted a little and could tell by the sound of his breathing that he wasn't asleep. She tilted her head to look up at him though she could only see the knotted locks of his hair and his bare arm haloed in the dim light leaking in from outside. She sighed and could feel his muscles beneath her fingers tense as he realized that she had awoken. She kept her voice a whisper. "Why are you not asleep?"

He shifted his weight a little as he exhaled and she stiffened as his hand rested on the back of her head, unaccustomed to his touch anywhere but on her middle. The movement of his thumb stroking her hair sent a warm shiver down her spine and, hidden in the dark, she closed her eyes, letting the pleasant tickling sensation wash over her.

Her affection for him had grown in leaps and bounds since they came to this place. He was her charge as much as she was his. He was her fellow slave and her reminder of home, but more importantly, he was another set of eyes and ears that watched out for them both. A warm touch. A beating heart. An ever-growing light in his eyes when he looked at her. He was there – a warm body in the night, a guiding touch in the day, a tickling breath on her shoulder, reminding her that she was so fiercely alive.

"I'm worried," he hoarsely whispered back.

"About what?"

"You."

His answer made her open her eyes again and she pulled her hand away from his side, her shifting stilling his hand in her hair. "Ronon..."

"I want to kill the drivers. I can't stand the way they look at you."

She hesitated, unable to deny the anxiety that gripped her whenever she noticed one such look. "I do not enjoy it, either."

He took a deep breath and let it out shakily. It fanned across her chest. "We have to get out of this place." Her eyes tried to find his in the dim hoar light. "I'm not waiting around until something happens to you. We should leave in the night."

She furrowed her brow. "And risk recapture? They would kill us."

"We wouldn't get caught. I was a Runner, I know how to avoid-"

"What if they interrogate others as to our whereabouts? What if they torture these people to learn how we escaped?"

The Satedan was silent, knowing the slave drivers were fully capable of such an act.

She clenched her jaw, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. "I hate this as much as you do, but I feel it is safest to continue to wait for rescue."

The tear-filled quiver in her voice made his retort of "if it ever comes" seem cruel so he bit his tongue and pulled her to him in a hug, running his fingers through her hair.

She sniffled quietly, ashamed at first of showing such weakness in front of him. Yet his gentle response eased the embarrassment from her shoulders and she hugged him back. Her forehead rested against his throat once more and she could feel the vibrations of his voice as he whispered "We'll get through this together" as he gave her a reassuring squeeze. She nodded, knowing that without his constant presence and silent guardian growl she would have spent many nights crying herself to sleep as she endured the inhumanity alone.

She tilted her head upwards, planting a small kiss of thanks on his neck, pausing when she felt his quickening pulse beneath her lips. She pulled away as he stiffened from the contact. Her lips tingled with teasing pleasure and when she felt him shift to try to look at her she leaned in once more, pressing her lips against the coarse stubble of his cheek, closing her eyes as the scent and the feel of his skin made her heart beat faster with a pleasant flush. He closed his eyes and leaned against her lips, tilting his chin towards hers when they next kissed the corner of his mouth, then finally his lips.

She started to panic when, for a heartbeat, he didn't kiss her back, but her anxiety evaporated as his lips awoke against hers and his hand slid from her hair to rest on her hip. He leaned in with a small gasp of air as his tongue slid into her mouth and she leaned forward, cupping his cheek with a muffled, happy whimper, her heated blood pulsing pleasantly in her lips.

Her mind began to sluggishly catch up with her as they hesitatingly untangled to breathe and she reminded herself with a jolt of surprise _who_ she was kissing. His thoughts seemed to echo hers for her brushed the hair off her face, caressing her cheekbone with his scabbed thumb as he kissed her lightly again before pulling back, letting her know that it was okay, that their former selves in Atlantis felt like people from another life, another time. Here, where they had nothing else, there were no walls to hide behind, no judgmental Earthlings. Just lips and pulses, sore muscles and the warmth of another's embrace... a need for each other that couldn't ever have existed before now.

She leaned towards him as he pulled away, resting her head once more beneath the warmth of his neck, panting to catch her breath and trailing her fingers down his back, feeling his racing pulse against her forehead as he pulled her against his warmth once more, wrapping his arms protectively around her and draping a leg over hers as the two attempted to still their hearts enough to sleep.

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	4. IV Bleeding

**Author's Note:** I forgot to say in my intro -- I wrote this last summer so it's set where we viewers were in the season back then. So consider it set after season three and before season four.

* * *

**IV. Bleeding**

The two were careful to hide the growing strength of heir emotional bond, maintaining the same physicality as before

The two were careful to hide the growing strength of heir emotional bond, maintaining the same physicality as before. Ronon remained by her side in the fields and off, yet within a few days, his constant, intimidating presence had succeeded in annoying the driver in charge of overseeing the slaves in their barrack. One morning, without explanation, he stopped Ronon by pressing his un-ignited prod to the Satedan's chest and ordering him to a new work detail in a distant field. Ronon had only spared Teyla a cautioning glance as he feigned compliance, stepping into the column of slaves headed for the far field. The driver smiled at his back before turning to Teyla with a knowing grin, his eyes lingering before he headed to his mount.

Her stomach curdled under the man's gaze and she took care to bend low in the fields whenever he rode past, attempting to remain as unnoticed as possible. Yet the man later found her and he eyed her with an openly lustful gaze as she washed her face and arms off in a trough with the rest of the slaves as they returned from the fields for their evening meal. Her heart leapt when she recognized Ronon's tall, tired frame returning with the rest of the slaves from his detail. Trying to remain inconspicuous, she resisted the urge to fall into step beside him and focused instead on the cook hollering out orders.

Her group was the first to eat and she nearly lost her appetite when she glanced up from her soup only to see the diver make a lewd gesture at her then laugh with his fellow drivers as they smoked off to the side. She narrowed her eyes at him as her cheeks colored, then took her empty bowl to a stack of dirty dishes before weaving herself into a group of other slaves returning to their quarters, not wanting to even walk alone with this man's predatory presence near.

She crossed the barracks to her and Ronon's sleeping section on the far end then watched the door each time it opened, waiting for the shoulders of the Satedan, but with each slave that entered hat wasn't Ronon her anxiety grew. What if he had been assigned to another barrack? How would they manage to see each other, much less speak?

When he finally entered a half hour later she climbed to her feet, hugging him tightly the moment he was near enough. He tiredly wrapped his arms around her as she closed her eyes, burying her face in his chest. He simply held her against him, closing his eyes as well while their hearts began to beat in the same rhythm. She didn't need to speak of the fear that had plagued and drained her all day for it had weighed a heavy toll upon him, as well. She did not let go as they lay down to sleep and he ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her forehead and resting his cheek against the top of her head as she pressed her forehead to his collarbone. Though they relaxed, neither's grip faltered throughout the night.

* * *

Teyla managed to keep a low profile again the next day and Ronon attempted to find her in her distant filed whenever possible but the task was difficult. On the third day of Ronon's separation from her, the driver strolled up to Teyla, tapping her shoulder and jerking his head towards a field in the distance. "I want you to come work over there."

Teyla glanced at the green field of un-ripened grain, wiping her bangs off of her sweaty brow.

Noting her hesitance, the driver spat and casually began to uncoil his whip. Her eyes flicked to the weapon to the man as she set down her basket, nodding and following him out of her field, her mind racing through the many possible means she had of warding off this his advances, but her stomach gyred in anxiety as she equally raced through the consequences of resisting.

Ronon had paused to stretch his back, squinting in the sunlight when he noticed two figures making a beeline for a field not yet ready to be harvested. He clenched his jaw as he recognized the outline of the whip and hat of a driver and the powerful gait of Teyla. As the two slipped into the field he shrugged off his holding sack and raised a hand. When his driver noticed and nodded his okay, Ronon tried to keep his gait casual as he headed for the outhouse on the edge of the field. He glanced to the driver as he opened the door. The man's back was turned and with another glance around to make sure there were no witnesses, Ronon swiftly strode to the un-ripened field, slipping into the tall grasses that nearly grew to his full height.

Teyla kept her eyes on the man's shoulders, waiting for the first opportunity she would have to react. The driver spun about to face her after only about a minute of trekking through the tall grass. She tensed as he spoke. "Take off your clothes."

She felt her muscles coil with adrenaline as she lifted her chin, her voice firm. "No."

The man licked his thin lips with a small, hungry smile as he unbuckled his belt. "I sure picked you good. I like 'em fiery." Teyla narrowed her eyes, her feet inching apart, readying to kick in defense. He dropped his belt to the ground. "Want me to take 'em off for you?"

She opened her mouth to respond when he hastily closed the distance between them, yanking her to him as he pressed his mouth to hers. She swiftly brought her knee up, smashing him in the groin. He cried out in her mouth, doubling over as she untangled herself from him but one of his fists remained in her hair. Her voice remained calm and firm as she grabbed his forearm. "Let me go."

The man was still doubled over and she dug her fingers in painfully to try to make him let go when he suddenly lurched upright, clobbering her in the side of the head with a stone he'd grabbed from the ground. Her vision flickered for a heartbeat and in that instant he kicked her legs out from under her, toppling her over. He was on top of her by the time her vision cleared, rolling her over onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand and unbuttoning her pants with the other. She bucked against him as soon as she regained her senses, trying to knee him from behind and crying out as she struggled to free her wrists but he threw his weight behind his grip and slugged her in the side with his free hand. His voice was a growl as he grabbed her by the hair then forced her to look at him. "I'm gonna make you bleed."

She spat in his face, shoving against him, nearly dismounting him then stilling when he raised another rock threateningly. Fear pulsed for a moment as he gazed at her with a manic expression as his arm came down to strike her again. But the blow never landed. The driver was flung off of her with a growl as Ronon hurled himself at her attacker, slamming him onto the smashed grass then righting himself to slug him in the face.

Teyla scrambled onto her knees, pausing as her vision swam again from the wound to her temple. The driver had unsheathed a knife from his boot as Ronon readied to hit him again. Teyla cried out his name in warning and Ronon rolled away so that the blade only nicked his arm. The driver rose and the Satedan once more hurled himself at the older man, grabbing his wrist and freeing the knife from him. When the slave driver screamed and slugged Ronon in the shoulder the warrior swiftly yanked the knife across the other man's throat with a gurgle and a sudden spilling of blood as his artery gushed it out of the wound in his neck.

Ronon panted down at the man for a moment before tucking the knife into the driver's spasming hand and turning to Teyla, panting. She locked eyes with him, shaking. Within an instant he was at her side, hauling her to her feet and guiding her by her bicep, fleeing the increasingly limp body of the driver. Her steps became steadier as they neared the edge of the field and he let go of her as they exited, hastily looking around, his arm pressing against her shoulder to guide her as they hastily strode toward the abandoned water trough in the eating area. He walked on her right side, concealing her bleeding head wound from any who might glance over, but for the moment they were free of spectators.

Once behind a building and out of sight he pressed a hand to her back and guided her to the trough, stripping off his shirt and dipping a corner of it in the water as he looked to her. She perched on the edge of the trough as he kneeled before her, reaching out to gently wipe away the drying blood from the side of her head with his makeshift washcloth. After a few light strokes he rinsed the fabric out then locked eyes with her before readying to dab at the wound again. Though her gaze maintained the strength of her perseverance, her lower lip was quivering slightly, as were her arms. He abandoned his task at hand and pulled her to him in a hug, kissing her uninjured temple. She wrapped her arms around his bare back and he shifted his head to whisper "It's alright," into her ear.

She shook her head, unable to still her shaking as adrenaline continued to course through her. "We killed him..."

"I know." He pulled away, readying to clean her wound again, looking her in the eye. His voice was slightly higher pitched than normal, coming quickly. "But no one knows it was us yet. We're gonna go back to work as quickly as we can and keep our heads low, you got that?"

She nodded then winced a little as he cleaned her wound again.

"It'll take them a while to find his body. Hopefully we'll be long gone by then."

She looked to the cut on his arm as he rearranged her bangs to conceal her wound. "Ronon... your arm..."

He glanced to the wound then back to her hair. "I could've gotten it harvesting." He rose, rinsing out the corner of his shirt once more before putting it back on.

She rose as well. "I will return to the field."

He nodded. "Wait a few minutes after I go so we don't head back at the same time. And try to look upset, like you were just..."

She nodded. "I will. I know several witnessed me leaving with him."

He nodded, looking her over again, hesitating before leaving. Her eyes lingered on his for a moment before she forced them away. "I'll see you tonight," he whispered before slipping away, managing to sneak back into his field without much notice. She waited for a few moments then did the same, keeping her eyes downcast and allowing the shakiness to remain in her limbs as she returned to her work, willing the sun to set with every heartbeat.

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	5. V Yearning

**V. Yearning**

She waited in the barracks for Ronon's group to finish eating, once more watching the door for his frame

She waited in the barracks for Ronon's group to finish eating, once more watching the door for his frame. Her head continued to throb dully and though it had swollen a bit she could tell that it was not going to worsen. She rose when he entered and he hastened towards her, engulfing her in a hug and kissing the top of her head. Her throat tightened with tears of relief as she hugged him back, clinging to the fabric at the back of his shirt. His voice was a whisper in her hair. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "What are we going to do?"

He sighed, closing his eyes as he nuzzled into her hair. "I don't know." He was quiet for a moment, feeling her heart beat against his chest. "They've noticed he's missing. I heard two other drivers joking about where he could have gone off to. When he doesn't come back tonight they'll start looking for him." He paused for a moment then let go to hold one of her hands. "I'm so glad you're alright."

She squeezed his hand with a small smile. "As alright as can be expected."

The two made their way to their corner and sat down. Ronan kept an arm around her waist and she rested her head against his shoulder. It was now dark outside and the barracks were full. For a long while they held still and listened to the noises of the people around them as the others drifted to sleep. A mother was quieting her child and two other lovers were whispering to each other in another language. Ronon lay down and Teyla follower, pressing herself against his side.

"Several saw me leave with him," Teyla whispered, her hand resting on his chest, feeling his heart beat.

He kept his voice low and whispered near her ear so they wouldn't be overheard by any still awake. "I'll sneak out tonight and hide the body." He hesitated, fingering a lock of her hair. "Then I'll find the 'gate and come back with help as soon as I can."

She let his words sink in while she felt several of his breaths fall upon her chin.

"When I overheard the drivers talking they were calling him Jenkins," he continued. "Joking that they probably wouldn't see him for a few days if he quit early to go drink."

She sighed and her exhalation tickled his collarbone. "Then his vices have gifted us several days."

Ronon nodded. "I plan to be back with help long before they figure out what happened to him. But if you stay here and stay quiet like you have they won't suspect you. If anything goes wrong and they talk to you, tell them it was me and that I threatened you if you told. Just act weak and scared – these guys love power and they feel manly when a woman acts like that. But hopefully they won't notice anything until I've gotten you out of here."

She slid her hand into his and squeezed it. "You are a Runner, Ronon. I trust you of all people to do this swiftly."

He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed hers. "I promise you, I won't stop until you're safe by my side."

Her throat was painfully tight and tears were beginning to sting her eyes. Her voice was barely an audible whisper. "Then you must leave tonight."

He squeezed her hand with a reluctant "...Yeah."

A tear slid down her cheek. "What if you are caught?"

He shook his head. "I won't be. Hounds and a few men don't really compare to Wraith and tracking devices."

She knew he was right and the memory of what he had fought through to survive his second capture on Sateda only strengthened her faith in him. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, sniffling quietly as he squeezed her tightly, unable to chase away the fears that this would be her last opportunity to hold him again. The sounds of the deep breathing of their tired fellows echoed to her as Ronon eased his hold on her waist to kiss her. She was surprised to feel the tears on her cheeks press against those of his own as she kissed him back and after a heartbeat she pulled away to wipe at one of his with her thumb. Her nose bumped against his, her lips still tantalizingly close as she whispered, "I love you, Ronon."

He leaned forward to kiss her again and as their pulses quickened he pulled back to whisper, "I love you, too, Teyla," before she silenced him with a surge of passion, tangling her fingers in his locks of hair as she kissed him, sliding one knee over his hip as he rolled onto his back. She slid her hands over the bumps of thinning muscle on his arms, fueled by an aching need to memorize every curve and stretch of his body for fear that her memory of him would be all that remained after this night.

She arched her back against his hand as it slipped under the back of her shirt and traced her spine, her desire heightening as his other hand traveled up her clothed thigh to rest on her rump. She shifted her kisses to his neck, allowing her tongue to linger on the sweat salted flesh, feeling the racing rush of his pulse before traveling to his collarbone and gently nipping it with a light moan. His quiet gasp of pleasure and the tightening of his fingers was enough to undo any resistance to her yearning.

She yanked at his shirt and he let go of her to help her tug it off over his head, tossing it to the side. She kissed his lips once more, her hands traveling up his sides and over the bumps of rib and muscle, making him shiver pleasantly. She shifted to kiss his chest once more, lightly scraping her teeth against a pectoral muscle as she gently pinched the flesh of his abdomen with teasing lips. One of his hands rested on her hip and the other gently tangled in her hair. His breath came in intermittent spurts as she kindled the flame of his skin, encouraging her into unthinking, unhesitating action as his quiet gasps of pleasure undid her.

Her lips trailed lower, pausing at the waist of his trousers with a teasing nip, eliciting a pleading gasp from Ronon. She paused, looking up at him as he propped himself on his elbows to meet her gaze, his chest heaving. For several painfully long, pulsating moments the two studied the glint of what they could see of each other's eyes while their blood raged through their veins, rushing in so many directions that neither could focus on anything other than the feel of the other's body pressed against theirs, the ache in their loins. Ronon cocked his head a little before shifting his weight to rest a hand on Teyla's shoulder and she could see that there was a worry line between his brows. His voice was questioning, cautious, as if asking her to continue yet begging her to stop at the same time, all uttered in one word. "Teyla..."

She studied him for a moment, knowing he was silently warning her that he was afraid. She turned to his hand on her shoulder and lifted it to her lips, kissing his palm before kissing the flesh below his naval. Prevailing in his confused, meek utterance of resistance was his questioning her readiness, and she realized with mild surprise that it had only been a few hours since she was attacked, though it felt like many days. He was worried she wasn't thinking clearly as a result – that she might regret this later. She gently squeezed and massaged his hip with one hand as she kissed his abdomen again, then silently let him know her answer as she slid her other hand up his thigh, her thumb teasingly pressing along the inner length, making him choke on his breath once more as his shoulders wilted.

Her fingers nimbly traced the lacings of his trousers, searching for the tie, making him pant with their pressure. Her knuckles tantalizingly bumped against his groin as she unlaced his fly, making him gasp out a moan that had her straddling him in a heartbeat, their lips locking once more as he arched against her and tugged at the hem of her shirt. Their kiss was interrupted as he pulled off her top then reached for the buckle of her pants, the unfastening of which made increasingly difficult as the gentle rocking of her hips against his swiftly stole coherency from the rest of his body with a flush of shuddering heat as she kissed him again, her fingers tangling in his locks.

Both had learned long ago that privacy was next to nonexistent in the lives of the slaves – all life was experienced together and accepted. One morning they had been awoken by the wails of a mother whose child had frozen to death in the night, weakened by malnutrition. Yet Teyla and Ronon still kept their voices as quiet as possible, muffling the cries of the other with their lips as they writhed in rhythm with each other, their bodies singing of their need for the other.

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	6. VI Trembling

**VI. Trembling**

After replacing the partially loosed board on their side of the wall, Teyla curled in on herself to try to sleep, attempting to ignore the biting cold without Ronon's body heat

After replacing the partially loosed board on their side of the wall, Teyla curled in on herself to try to sleep, attempting to ignore the biting cold without Ronon's body heat. Though the night continued for several hours she merely managed to doze, keeping one ear open for any sign of alarm that Ronon had been captured or that the body had been discovered. Rising to go to work in the fields was a relief for the first time in her servitude and she focused on her work, remaining inconspicuous as each hour that passed without incident gave her hope of Ronon's success and her rescue.

That hope was shattered that afternoon when the baying of hounds accompanied by the shouts of the slave drivers heralded ill. She kept her back bent and her head low as she harvested, mimicking the wan interest in the goings on that the other slaves displayed.

Suddenly a chorus of whistle blows rose from the mounted drivers patrolling the fields. A young man was filling in for Jenkins and he waved his arm at the slaves in Teyla's field, hollering for them to take a water break then assemble by a large tree near the water troughs. For a moment Teyla didn't move, apprehension and anxiety curling in her stomach. As slaves brushed past her she shook herself into action and left her sack on the pile with the others in the shade, stepping in with a group of sweating slaves as they trudged over to the water troughs. She waited for her turn then washed off, trying to hide the shaking of her hands. After getting a drink, she milled with the rest towards the tree, her heart racing. Though she couldn't see over the heads of those already gathered, she could hear the mustached foreman who had overseen their branding, Cartman, bellowing. "Gather round. Gather round!" His hoarse voice wheezed as he strained it to shout. "See what happens when a slave attempts to run!"

Teyla's jaw quivered as she shouldered through the gathered crowd, praying that someone else had been caught. Her lips parted as a shudder coursed through her when she spied her teammate standing beside the tree, shackled and bruised. The raw skin around his wrists, the deepening hues of his bruises and the puckering of his skin around prod burns betrayed that he had been apprehended at least hours before. Her voice was a breath of fear as she mourned, "Oh Ronon..." then bit the inside of her lower lip.

"This man was caught early this morning, out past curfew, attempting to run. Should any of you attempt this, you will be punished as you shall witness here," Cartman finished as he nodded to the man holding the end of the Satedan's chains. The man gave a yank, attempting to pull Ronon over to a stump in the center of the ring of gathered slaves but Ronon narrowed his eyes and yanked back, causing the other man to stumble towards him. Cartman caught the action and smoothly withdrew his prod, zapping the taller man in the side before grabbing him by the hair and yanking his weakened frame forward. He and the other driver forced the Satedan onto his knees then slammed his cheek against the stump.

Teyla clenched her jaw at the mistreatment as the driver pinned Ronon to the stump by the back of his shoulders. Cartman unsheathed a knife and swiftly brought it up to the Satedan's back. She closed her eyes in apprehension yet opened them when all she heard was the tear of fabric. Cartman had cut Ronon's shirt away and flung it aside. He then placed a foot on either side of the kneeling man, his straw hat sheltering him from the sunlight in the unrelenting, still heat of the afternoon. He raised the longest lock of Ronon's hair and sawed it off with his knife, tossing it aside.

"You have no individuality," he shouted as he continued cutting off the knots of hair. "You have no name. You are property and belong to your master and mistress. You live and die by their will." His cuts were erratic, leaving Ronon with a head of haphazard stumps that fell at different lengths as Cartman cut away the Satedan's symbol of his prowess as a brave while he stood in a dominating position. Ronon's hair soon lay at Cartman's feet and he dug his fingers into what remained of the younger man's mane, yanking his head up off the stump to accentuate his humiliation before the other slaves.

Ronon was panting, sweat trickling down his temples in the heat, yet his features were a stony mask that pained the Athosian for she had seen his visage steeled in such a way in the past in an attempt to ward off pain. Cartman stepped to the side and he and the driver yanked the Satedan to his feet and over to the tree, shoving him so that his back was now to Teyla. Throwing one end of his chains over a bough, the driver yanked his shackled wrists over his head and secured the metal.

Cartman circled the slave with a falsely approving smile before tapping at the strained muscles of his bare back with the tip of his inactivated prod. "You see? Even the strongest of you stands no chance of escape. And he will be shown no quarter for his value in the fields." He stepped in front of Ronon and yanked his head towards his, bellowing. "You are a _slave_!" Ronon blinked as his face was speckled with the other man's spit. "Your life is not yours to live or to lose. We _own_ you!"

He stalked away from Ronon, striding purposefully towards the driver who was holding a whip out to him. He took it with a swipe, his movements jerky with anger as he uncoiled it. "The punishment for attempted escape is thirty lashes."

Without hesitation he wrenched his shoulder back and hurled the end of the whip at Ronon's back. Teyla's stomach lurched and she closed her eyes at the sickening slap of the leather against skin. She opened her eyes at the second crack, dully registering Ronon's silence in the face of such pain. Two large welts adorned his back and were joined by a third. She flinched and turned away, shoving back through the crowd of grim onlookers in an attempt to escape the crack of the whip, but she could still hear the snap of splitting skin and her guts grated.

She made her way around the back of the circle, arcing, moving slowly to remain unnoticed, trying to get in front of Ronon. She paused, glancing to a child who had his face burrowed into his mother's shoulder as she rested a hand on the back of his head. The idea of a child bearing witness to such an atrocity twisted her stomach even more and she stepped away, halting when within a few steps the mother of the child began to sing in a strong, deep voice.

"I was standing by window..."Several others joined in the song by the second line and Teyla could see the drivers glancing to each other as the rest of the slaves took up the chorus.

"On a cold and cloudy day

When I saw that hearse come rollin'

For to carry my mother away."

Will the circle be unbroken?

By and by, Lord, by and by.

There's a better home a-waitin'

In the sky, Lord, in the sky."

She utilized the distraction of the drivers to gently shoulder through the crowd to the front where she could see Ronon's face.

"Well I told that undertaker,

Undertaker, please drive slow

For this lady you are carryin'

Lord I hate to see her go.

Well I followed close behind her

Tried to hold up and be brave,

But I could not hide my sorrow

When they laid her in the grave."

Sweat trickled down his temples and his eyes were shut, yet though his lips were parted, no cries of pain escaped. His body lurched as another stroke fell and she flinched at the snap in the whip as the force of the coil slammed against his ribs again. She glanced at the other slaves who continued to sing, heads bowed, then lifted her own voice to join in the repetitive chorus.

"Will the circle be unbroken?

By and by, Lord, by and by.

There's a better home a-waitin'

In the sky, Lord, in the sky."

Cartman's face was red as he swung the whip with more force as they sang and a small whimper escaped the Satedan as the air was thrown from his lungs with the force of the blow. He cracked open his eyes, attempting to focus on the voices around him rather than the pain that was making him sag in his chains.

"Will the circle be unbroken?

By and by, Lord, by and by.

There's a better home a-waitin'

In the sky, Lord, in the sky.

I went back home, my home was lonesome,

Missed my mother she was gone,

All of my brothers and sister cryin'

What a home so sad and lone.

He closed his eyes again as the next blow fell and a tear slipped over his high cheekbone, gliding down his face, screaming for him. Teyla's heart wrenched and she slowly closed her eyes, her own silent tears escaping.

"We sang the songs of childhood,

Hymns of faith that made us strong,

Ones that our mother taught us,

Hear the angels sing along.

Will the circle be unbroken?

By and by, Lord, by and by.

There's a better home a-waitin'

In the sky, Lord, in the sky."

Cartman was screaming with the final blows then finally relented, red, sweating, and his chest heaving from the effort of the whipping. The slaves had fallen silent and he shakily coiled the bloodied whip then handed it to the driver beside him. He drank a ladleful of water out of a nearby bucket, turning to survey the damage he had done. Ronon's legs were shaking as they struggled to continue to support him as he sagged in his shackles, the skin on his back flayed and shredded as blood trickled into his waistline. His arms and shoulders quivered but he did not let his head droop.

Teyla hastily wiped at her tears as Cartman hollered for them to return to their fields. Slaves brushed past her yet she lingered, unable to tear herself away as she struggled to suppress the urge to slaughter all of the drivers, to let Ronon down and tend to his wounds for the drivers were content to let him hang. She continuously reminded herself of his words, asking her to remain inconspicuous, as she turned her back on his trembling frame and stepped along with the rest of the departing slaves.

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_Note:_ "Will The Circle Be Unbroken?" is a traditional American folk song.


	7. VII Blushing

**VII. Blushing**

Her breathing was labored as she paced the small area where she and Ronon slept, clenching her jaw in frustration and anxiety as she planned her next course of action

Her breathing was labored as she paced the small area where she and Ronon slept, clenching her jaw in frustration and anxiety as she planned her next course of action. The slave drivers had left Ronon in his shackles all afternoon and he was still there when Teyla had passed by earlier. The sight of the flies making a feast of his torn flesh turned her stomach and she couldn't eat her meal. No one had treated his wounds and she suspected that they planned on leaving him hanging as a warning after making an example of him.

She could escape the barracks through the same loose board as Ronon had the night before. If she could free him then they might stand a chance... yet injured as he was she knew travel was next to impossible. At the least she could get him water and tend to his injuries.

When the door was locked for the night she lay down, feigning sleep until the others had dozed off and she would be free to slip out unnoticed. Before the opportunity came, however, the doors were unlocked and a man with a lantern stepped in. He pointed to the open space beside the Athosian and two men dragged Ronon in. She forced herself to remain calm as they dropped his limp form into the dirt before leaving to lock the door again.

Her heart was racing and as soon as their footsteps faded she turned to Ronon, only able to see the outline of his flank as he'd landed on a hip. She felt for his pulse then gently shook his shoulder, whispering his name. "Ronon?"

There was no response and her guts twisted anxiously as she realized that he was unconscious. His skin was cold, kissed by the freezing night air. She wanted to wrap her arms around him to share her body heat but didn't know how since all of his back was wounded. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging his head against her chest as she began to quietly weep, his slow yet steady pulse beneath her arm and the rise and fall of his chest the only reminder that he yet lived.

She eventually drifted into a light sleep but was awakened sometime in the night when he groaned softly and tried to shift his weight. She leaned her face in close to his. "Ronon?" He sighed out another groan and she brushed her fingers across his cheek, quietly calling his name again.

He spent a moment swallowing before he made a quiet sound, letting her know that he could hear her.

Her face split into a grin as she rested her hand on his cheek, kissing his parched lips that felt so lifeless compared to the night before. "I am right here."

His breath wheezed for a moment as he struggled to speak. When he did, his voice was a hoarse, croaked whisper. "Where are we?"

Her heart dipped a little at the question but she kept her voice hopeful. "We are in our sleeping barracks. They brought you here a while ago."

He sighed then winced as his back spasmed.

She ran her fingers soothingly along his cheek, resting the tip of her nose against his, her throat tightening over his obvious pain. "...I am so sorry, Ronon. I do not know how to help you."

He opened his eyes yet when he couldn't see her he let them slide shut once more, knowing by how much he had to struggle to remain coherent that there wasn't much she could do even under better circumstances. The only healer he now had was time. "...Just don't let go."

Her mouth contorted as a silent sob strained her throat and she kissed his dry lips once more, running her fingers through what was left of his hair. "I will not."

He was quiet for a while after that, struggling to maintain his train of thought and focus. "...I failed."

She shook her head even though he couldn't see her. "You did your best. We had to try."

"I couldn't leave you."

She ran her thumb along his cheekbone.

He exhaled a ragged breath, shivering a little. "I buried the body... I tried to leave but I couldn't leave you here."

She furrowed her brow. "You came back?"

"I couldn't leave you..."

She hugged him to her weeping heart as new tears slid down her cheeks, guilt stirring her stomach. She was the reason he had been caught.

* * *

Ronon was in a deep sleep when Teyla was forced to let him go as she left to work in the fields. She watched the driver's expression as the slaves filed past. He glanced to Ronon then back to the passing slaves and Teyla knew that Ronon would receive no help from those in power.

She thought about him constantly as she worked, desperately seeking means to help him heal with what few resources she had. The possibility of escape was nearly forgotten as she focused on keeping him alive after the torture that he'd endured. She was able to hide some bread in her pocket during the evening meal and instead of returning her bowl to the barrel full of dirty dishes, she slipped it under her shirt and detoured to the water troughs on her way to the barracks, cleaning it out then filling it with water. Most of the drivers were lounging around chatting and smoking so she wasn't bothered as she carried it back to her sleeping quarters.

As far as she knew, no one yet suspected any foul play in Jenkins' disappearance. She only prayed that, as time wore on, fewer and fewer people would even remember her being seen with him and any suspicion of her would diminish.

Ronon was still lying on his side as she had left him that morning. She set the bowl of water down then crouched by his side, peering at his back. Dirt from the ground was sticking to his wounds closest to it and the flesh around the injuries had swollen. A clear liquid was coating the lash marks, the excess slipping down his sides. White fringed some of the wounds and what skin that was left was an angry red. She couldn't imagine how to begin to treat such an injury but instead hoped to help his body regain as much strength as possible to heal itself.

She brushed her fingers across his forehead, furrowing her brow at the heat that had seeped into his flesh as his body temperature rose. She gently shook his shoulder and called his name a few times to rouse him, and at length he blinked his eyes open, looking to her with muted recognition, the light greens of his eyes glassy with fever. She smiled in greeting. "How are you feeling?"

He sighed, moving his arm slightly.

She brushed a few stray, curling hairs off his forehead. "I have brought you some food and water."

He flopped his hand towards hers and held it, closing his eyes. "...S'okay."

She licked her lips and shook her head as his eyes slipped shut again. "No, Ronon, you must drink." He didn't respond so she slid her hand from his and pressed it to his cheek to get his attention once more. "If you can sit up a little I will help you."

He cracked his eyes open once more and groaned quietly as she lifted his head. She tried to help him hold himself more upright but his body was floppy and dead weight so she settled for supporting his head and pressing the bowl to his lips. Though it took the rest of the hour they had before night fell, she managed to help him drink the entire bowl of water and eat some of the bread which she softened with the water.

She lay down beside him with a sigh, resting his temple on her shoulder as she brushed the dirt off the side of his cheek that had been resting on the ground. She closed her eyes, kissing his clammy brow before relaxing her body to sleep, assuming he was asleep once more. As such he surprised her with his quiet rasp. "Thank you, Teyla."

She smiled and began to run her fingers through his short stumps of hair. "You are welcome."

He brought his hand up to limply rest on her abdomen and she placed her free hand over his. She ran her thumb in comforting strokes across his knuckles. The water had helped his voice gain strength and he wasn't quite as hoarse when he spoke again. "Thank Sheppard for me," he trailed off as he exhaled deeply and she looked to what she could see of his furrowed brow in the dimming light. "...And McKay and Weir."

She tried to look him in the eye. "What for?"

It took a few breaths before he answered. "For giving me a chance."

"Ronon," her voice was firm. "Do not speak as if you are dying."

There was a whimper in his voice. "I feel like I am."

"But you are not. You have been injured, nothing more. You can easily survive this. You have been through much worse before."

He let out a quivering breath, his hand twitching in hers.

She blinked back tears at how weak his hand was in her own. "And you have such incredible strength of spirit, Ronon. To have endured what you have in your lifetime yet to still be able to trust others is nothing short of remarkable."

"...I held you hostage."

She smiled a little as a tear escaped, remembering their first meeting when Ronon had been ready to attack anyone if he had to. But time with those who came to be his friends had helped calm him, reminding him of the gentleness yet left in the world. "I understand why and in hindsight it was a wise decision. All ended well, did it not?"

He was quiet for a moment as he breathed. "I trusted your eyes."

She smiled again and kissed his heated forehead.

He sighed, his voice weakening once more. "I love you, Teyla."

She felt a heat blossom in her chest and soar up past her spine, flushing out on the back of her neck and blushing her cheeks. The corners of her lips arched in a heartsmile as her breath hitched in her chest. Her voice shook a little when she responded. "...And I love you." Her throat tightened with tears and she swallowed hard, firming her voice. "We must hold onto that for it is something that no one can ever take away. Ever." He weakly squeezed her hand again and she ran her fingers through his hair, wishing she could help free him from the agony of his heated skin. "You should rest now." She squeezed his hand. "I am right here."

He took a deep breath and shakily let it out. His breathing slowly evened as she continued to gently massage his sticky scalp, silently praying to whatever gods that be to help him heal and to aid their rescue, for though she knew he had reserves of strength not yet tapped, the limpness of his body beside hers was enough to prompt more than a few terrified tears.

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	8. VIII Chilling

**VIII. Chilling**

She awoke later in the night from the jarring annoyance of a heat flash

She awoke later in the night from the jarring annoyance of a heat flash. She shifted her weight, trying to expose more skin to cool off, then realized that the heat wasn't coming from her. Ronon's skin was even warmer than it had been before and her sweat was mingling with his as she warmed with him. She pulled his head into her lap as she sat up, stroking his hair once more as he slept fitfully. Dawn approached shortly after she awoke and when it was time to work in the fields once more she eased his sweaty cheek back onto the dirt, kissing his opposite cheek and whispering that she would be back with more food and water as soon as possible.

She followed the same routine as the day before except that this time she was able to sneak some of the fruit she was harvesting by slipping some under the fabric that covered her chest. She hastily ate her meal then, though she still had the bowl from the night before, cleaned and filled her new bowl with water, heading straight for the barracks. She pushed the door open with her foot then turned to face the end where she had left Ronon, dropping the bowl of water when she saw that he wasn't there. She looked wildly around for a moment then crossed to where he had been. The narrow imprint of his side in the dirt and a few sand clumps of bloodstains were all that remained.

Her heart began to race as she looked about again. He surely couldn't have moved on his own. Was it possible he had been taken somewhere to be treated? The thought was swiftly replaced with more dire possibilities as she shoved back through the door with a rush of adrenaline, her eyes scanning the people milling about. Several drivers were in the distance, once more smoking and chatting. She spied a teenaged girl carrying dirty dishes to the kitchen. Knowing that the slaves who prepared the food worked in the outdoor kitchen, witnessing much of what happened throughout the day, she returned to the barracks to grab her bowl.

She kept her stride casual as she strode up to the girl with her bowl. The girl gave her a small smile as she set her bowl down on the pile and Teyla smiled back then quietly asked, "Have you perchance seen what happened to the injured man who was in the barracks over there?" She marginally nodded her head towards her quarters.

The smile slipped from the girl's face and her voice matched the whisper of Teyla's. "The runaway?"

"Yes."

The girl's eyes glanced around as she gathered up her load of dishes again. "They took him this afternoon."

"Where to?"

The girl furrowed her brow and looked away as she noticed a driver approaching with his plate. "To the river."

Teyla shook her head a little. "Why would-"

"They dump all the dead slaves in the river so they don't have to waste dirt on a burial." With that the girl stepped past Teyla to receive the driver's plate.

For a heartbeat Teyla couldn't move as the girl's words echoed through her mind then she turned on her heel and strode back to her empty barracks, sinking onto her knees in the dirt where Ronon once lay, digging her hands into the earth as her breathing quickened, struggling to wrap her mind around a world without her warrior. A tear clumped the dirt below her as she dug her fingernails deeper then let out an agonized banshee wail.

For a second she realized that her loud cries would attract unwanted attention but the thought was quickly forgotten as she pounded her thighs with her fists, struggling to breathe through the lung-crushing weight of her lament.

After a short while a pair of strong hands were on her shoulders and she turned to look behind her as a woman crouched beside her. Though they had never spoken, she knew the other woman's face well for they shared their hours of servitude and sleep together. Yet Teyla had also memorized her face for another reason -- she was the mother of the child who had died a few weeks ago. The brown eyes of the women met for a moment and Teyla studied the other's face through her teary eyes. She guessed that they were around the same age yet the other woman's shoulders bore the time-earned fortitude of hardship. She kept her hands on Teyla's shoulders as she spoke and her voice was low yet soothing. "It will pass." Teyla's eyes searched hers as she hiccoughed from her tears. The woman continued, her angel bow lips curling in the tiniest encouraging smile. "You will survive and live long for the both of you."

The other woman pulled Teyla into a hug as the Athosian let out a strangled sob. She clung to the woman whose name she didn't even know as she wept uncontrollably while the other rubbed her back, humming softly.

* * *

When sand coarsely brushed his bare toes he pressed the ball of his foot against it, hauling his flaming and quaking torso onto the rocks and grasses of the riverbank. He heaved a lungful of air, his nose filled with the scent of clay and riparian leaves as he tried to yank himself further upon the shore but only managed to move a few more inches. His head swam and his vision spun but as his pulse slowed the world seemed to quiet.

He lifted his head to look around but night had fallen and all he could see were the silver-bathed blades of grass bordering the bank. His back throbbed with each beat of his heart and a warmth trickled down his sides as his wounds continued to seep and bleed, struggling to heal. He lay his cheek back down on the pebbles, tilting his head at the call of a night bird. The gentle evening breeze kissed his wet skin, chilling away the heat. He stilled his gaze when he caught sight of the star-strewn sky through the gently swaying canopy of leaves. The silent white of the ancient lights was the last he saw before his body shuddered and went limp once more.

**_Please review!_**


	9. IX Sifting

**IX. Sifting**

Brianna shouted at her dog to quiet itself as it barked continually

Brianna shouted at her dog to quiet itself as it barked continually. When she didn't listen Brianna growled in frustration, shoving a broody hen out of her nesting box as she was pecked. Once all of the eggs were in her apron she carried them out of the coop, ignoring the indignant protests of the robbed hens. She unloaded the eggs into the basket she'd once more forgotten to bring into the coop with her then turned to look at the still-barking dog across the glen. She was wagging her tail and dancing back and forth as she barked at something in the river.

Sighing as her leather shoes and the hem of her skirts got wet on the dew of the grass as she started after the barking nuisance, she flicked one of her twin blonde braids over her shoulder. "You stupid old lady!" she shouted at her canine as she mentally double checked her memory of shutting the door to the chicken coop. If she left it open again and they lost more hens she'd be in for another lecture from her father about how as a twelve-year-old her parents should be able to expect more from her than her--

She stopped dead in her tracks as the sound of buzzing flies filled the air when her dog quit barking upon her approach. Her blue eyes widened as she saw what looked to her to be the mutilated corpse of a man, half thrown onto the riverbank. The birds ceased their singing as she screamed at the top of her lungs, making her dog head for the hills.

* * *

Ronon awoke several times throughout the course of his fever but all he could recall were the sounds of a household with children, the barking of a dog and muffled voices hovering over him. When his fever finally broke and he could coherently analyze feedback from his senses he slowly registered a light tugging on his hair. There was a sudden yank then a hissing admonishment as two whispering voices began to argue.

"You're pulling too hard, Bo."

"Am _not_. Move over."

There was another tug.

"Ow! Stop it!"

"Shh – you're being too loud!"

"Am not – _you_ are."

He exhaled with an unintentional squeak and the voices and tugging stopped immediately. His head and back were throbbing and he focused on his breathing, attempting to calm the pain. After a few heartbeats the two voices began whisper-yelling again.

"You woke him up!"

"Did not! He's still sleeping."

A third, higher pitched voice suddenly broke in with a baby accent. "I wanna see."

He cracked open his eyes at the little voice and heavy breathing and the chubby face of a toddler slowly came into focus. Her lips were parted as drool coated her chin. Her large eyes and round cheeks were framed by twin blonde pigtails. He blinked and opened his eyes wider, not recognizing the child, and the toddler squealed and disappeared with the patter of little bare feet.

He groaned as her squeal made his head begin throbbing once more and another of the voices spoke again. "Bo – go tell Momma that he's awake."

There was a quiet moment as the other child sucked in a breath and he turned his heavy head to the side to see the girls. "Momma!" one hollered. "The man's awake!"

"I said _go_ tell Momma, Bo, not shout for her!"

"Then _you_ do it!"

He raised his eyebrows at the two bickering blondes each with a matching pair of braids. They froze when they noticed he was watching them. The shorter one stared at him as she whispered, "He's looking at us, Bri."

"I know, Bo," the taller one didn't look away from him as she answered.

Ronon furrowed his brows, unable to remember any of the three little blondes nor what he was doing with them. He could hear the creaking of floorboards as a woman gathered her skirts and knelt at his side in the low cot, finishing tucking her dirty blonde hair up in a bun. She smiled at him in greeting with relief in her eyes as she looked him up and down. "How do you feel?"

He gazed up at the woman from his position on his side but was unable to place her face. She pressed her hand against his cheeks and forehead as he parted his lips, moving them voicelessly as he struggled to speak.

"It's alright," she soothed, feeling his pulse in his neck. "Don't try to speak yet." She glanced over her shoulder at her oldest daughter. "Brianna, will you get him a glass of water please?" The girl nodded and dashed off. The shorter girl and the toddler stood off to the side, spying. "We were very worried about you. Your wounds were infected and you had a high fever for days. You've been out for almost a week but you've been doing so much better today." She smiled encouragingly. "Do remember any of the other times you've woken up here?"

He knew he must have since the room around him seemed vaguely familiar but he lightly shook his head no.

"That's alright." She smiled again as she rested her hand on his cheek once more. "You are good now – that's all that matters. Oh-" She reached out behind her for the glass of water that Brianna had carefully carried over then leaned towards him again and helped him lift his head up to drink. She used her apron to dry the water that accidentally spilled onto his chin as he drank then set the glass aside as he lay his head back down again. "It should be easier to talk now. We've all been very curious – what's your name?"

He swallowed once and cleared his throat a little. "Ronon."

She smiled again and the kindness in her eyes was so infectious that his lips curled a little in a return smile.

"That's a lovely name," she said. "I'm Lilliana and these are my girls Brianna, Isabeau and Sanura." She pointed the blondes out, tallest to shortest. "They're twelve, eight and two-and-a-half. They've been helping my husband and I watch over you." She cocked her head at him, furrowing her brow. "Do you remember what happened? Brianna found you washed up on the riverbank, half-dead."

He closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly, sifting through his mind for any memories of rivers, yet for some reason all he could think of was the river he used to swim in as a boy. Other than that he couldn't remember any rivers... maybe Teyla would know what she was asking about... He opened his eyes, glancing around at what he could see of the room then remembered how Teyla had always lain beside him and he tried to look behind him.

Lilliana stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright. You're safe."

His voice had a hoarse creak to it from disuse. "Teyla?"

Lilliana furrowed her brow as his eyes locked onto hers questioningly. "What?"

"Where's Teyla?"

The line between Lilliana's brows deepened as she shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry – I don't know who that is."

His eyes searched hers for a moment as he struggled to cite his last memory of Teyla yet his tired mind was failing him. He had no knowledge of how he had gone from Teyla's arms to the home of these strangers and that scared him.

Lilliana could see the struggle in his eyes and her face softened as she rocked back on her heels, resting her hand on his cheek once more. "You should rest," she said as she ran her thumb along his cheekbone. "You still have much healing to do."

He sighed, letting his weight sink against the pillow.

She motioned for her girls to step back as she tugged on a curtain she'd hung around Ronon's cot. She pulled the fabric to her then looked to Ronon again with a small smile. "I will wake you again when supper is ready." She stepped back and tugged the curtain shut.

Ronon let his eyes shut and whimpered quietly as a wave of pain shuddered through him. He fell back asleep as he tried to remember how he and Teyla had been parted.

_**Please review!**_


	10. X Waking

**X. Waking**

She had begun to look forward to her work

She had begun to look forward to her work. She took comfort in the pattern of the routines of each day for they were the one thing she could rely on. And harvesting crops and weeding fields was easy enough work. A weed was a problem one could fix in a matter of seconds. A weed didn't have emotions, couldn't feel pain, and couldn't mourn.

The edge of her hand was sliced and red mixed with the dirt stains as she tore at the blades of grass relentlessly. It had only been a week since she found out that Ronon had died, yet at times it felt like a year and at others it felt like he was with her only a few moments ago. She dug up the gnarled roots of a weed, tossing them into the nearby pile to burn. A slave close by began to sing, his voice a deep baritone. By now she knew several of the songs and after a few heartbeats she joined in. Tears began to slip down her cheeks as she worked, wiping at the sweat on her brow yet ignoring her tear trails. Her throat and chest were constricting painfully again and she forced her attention away from the pain and into the song and the earth before her. She knew Ronon wouldn't want her to be in pain because of him, but she couldn't shake her sorrow. The world no longer held any color and though she knew it would pass, the heavy weight in her chest drowned out all hope.

Without Ronon, surviving to escape or for the promise of rescue seemed without value. For him to have survived so much in his short life only to die like he did; humiliated and tortured on a world far from where he called home when they had both begun to kindle a beautiful light together was such a cruel twist of fate that she no longer had faith in dreams.

Life was all drudgery and pain, anyway, so this place was as good a one to die in as any. At least if she died there was a chance of an afterlife where she might see Ronon again, along with her parents and other deceased loved ones. She paused mid-verse as the song continued around her, letting her tears fall to the dirt as her sobs were hidden by the song. Her voice was a broken whisper. "I miss you so much, Ronon."

* * *

Lilliana gently shook Ronon's shoulder to wake him again that evening. He slowly regained consciousness but when she removed her hand he relaxed and attempted to fall back asleep again.

"Ronon," her voice called. "You must wake up and eat something now. I have some stew here for you."

He took a deep breath then shifted his head a little, opening his eyes. His insides gave a small start at his unfamiliar surroundings yet after a few heartbeats he began to remember waking earlier. Lilliana smiled and brushed some hair away from his ear. "Do you remember me?"

He gazed at her for a moment then nodded, yawning.

She pressed the back of her hand to his cheek, feeling his temperature once more before pulling her hand away. He was more awake now and could see that she was sitting in a chair beside his cot with a small end table nearby. Her three daughters were seated on the floor, peering at him intently. They looked like they were in their pajamas and the littlest one was in the biggest one's lap, sucking the two middle fingers of her left hand. He looked back to Lilliana as she started adjusting his pillow while he was leaning against it. "You're very weak, but I'm going to try to help you sit up a little, alright?"

He nodded and started to lean forward. She reached out and braced his shoulders as he did so, supporting much of his weight as he slid his legs over the edge of the cot until he was sitting upright. His vision swam and he closed his eyes as dizziness started to grip him. Lilliana pushed against his weight when he began to keel over, steadying him. He suddenly felt like he was going to vomit as his back throbbed heatedly. He could feel fluids inside his injuries shifting and vaguely noted the tightness of bandages around his chest. Lilliana chuckled and he realized that he'd let his forehead thunk against her shoulder.

"Here," she quietly said as she helped him straighten again, peeling him off of her. "Tell me when you're not so dizzy, alright?"

He nodded again, breathing shallowly as he waited for the nausea to pass. His head hung and when he opened his eyes he realized that he'd been stripped down to his boxers with no memory of his pants being removed. And come to think of it, his underwear looked as if it had been washed... He chanced a deeper breath as his cheeks began to flush with color and he realized that his arms were shaking.

The trio of blondes was whispering as they watched and he shied away from their gazes, unable to remember any of their names. "Feeling better yet?" Lilliana asked.

He waited for a moment then nodded and Lilliana brought up the bowl of stew, scooping out a spoonful with a small bite of potato in it. She held it to his lips and he took a bite, knowing by the effort it took to remain upright that he couldn't do that and feed himself at the same time. Lilliana smiled. "This is so much easier now that you're awake and can sit up. I've been pouring broth down your throat for a long while."

Ronon looked to her as she fed him another bite, wondering at all this stranger had done for him.

The toddler suddenly piped up in amusement, informing her sisters of the obvious. "Momma's feeding him like a baby!"

The other two shushed her and Ronon glanced over at the amused child with a slight scowl, feeling ridiculous enough as it was without a baby making fun of him. When Sanura noticed his expression directed at her she screamed and leapt off her sister's lap, sprinting into the adjoining kitchen. He immediately relaxed his features, not having realized that he'd been making a face at the child. Lilliana glanced over her shoulder to watch her child run away and sighed then looked back to the bowl, readying another spoonful.

Brianna cocked her head at him. "How'd you get into the river?"

Lilliana lowered the spoon to allow him to answer. He cleared his throat a little before hoarsely speaking. "I don't know."

Bo scooted forward a few inches on her knees. "Maybe you went swimmin' an' you almost drown. That happed to me once."

Brianna narrowed her eyes at her younger sister. "I'm sure he wasn't swimming, Bo."

"How do you know?"

"Because adults don't go swimming."

He would have smiled at that if Lilliana didn't shove another spoonful down his throat with an "Of course they do."

"Well, you and Pa never swim."

Lilliana answered without looking over her shoulder with another spoonful ready to shove in as soon as he finished swallowing the last one, too used to feeding infants. "That's because we're always too busy with you three. We used to go swimming all the time," she paused as she looked at them over her shoulder. "Naked."

Both girls' eyes widened and they began to giggle.

Lilliana wasn't paying attention and smashed the spoon into Ronon's closed lips as he tried to swallow the last bite without laughing. She hastily looked back to him at the bump. "Oh I'm sorry, sweetie." She pulled the spoon away and let him swallow. He studied her face as she glanced to a clock on the wall. He hadn't been called an endearment in nearly a decade. She grabbed a napkin and began wiping at his mouth. "That's probably enough for now, anyway. You don't want to throw it up later."

She held a glass to his lips again, letting him drink a few swallows then pulled it away, studying him again and smiling as she rested a hand on his arm. "You're not shaking anymore. And your color is coming back. Your skin is such a beautiful color."

He looked to her eyes again, not knowing what to say other than that it wasn't as if he'd picked it out. His back was a continual pulse of fire, searing here and there as he breathed, and the constant pain was already beginning to drain him of his newfound strength. He leaned back towards the pillow, curling his legs up and Lilliana helped him ease back onto his side, furrowing her brows as he winced. "How is the pain?"

He grit his molars together, wishing Dr. Beckett were there to help him and opening his eyes again as he remembered with a jolt that Carson had died. "It hurts," he admitted quietly and Lilliana nodded, rising.

"I'll be right back."

He nodded in return then sighed, feeling a flush of heat from the pain. He looked over to the two girls. The toddler had returned and all three now gazed at him expectantly. He wished he didn't feel so terrible as he realized that he was serving as their entertainment. He gazed at them tiredly for a moment, waiting for Lilliana to return.

Bo sucked on her lower lip then raised her hand to him in a wave. He couldn't help but smile a little, lifting a hand back. She grinned and looked to her two sisters as their mother returned, noting Ronon's small smile. "Are you girls harassing our guest?" She winked at Ronon as she sat down beside him again, holding out a glass with a viscous white drink. "It will help with the pain."

He eyed it as he leaned against one arm, sitting up enough to take the small glass in his hand and sip the sweet, syrupy medicine. He handed the glass back to her with a quiet "thank you."

She smiled. "You're more than welcome."

Bo had scooted up just behind her mother. "What happened to your back?"

"Isabeau!" Brianna admonished as her sister looked to her innocently.

Ronon could feel warmth blooming in his stomach from the medicine and realized that it must contain some alcohol. It began to creep through his bones, relaxing his muscles as his mind and heart stuttered at the memory of the whipping. The sound of the crack of the whip and the memory of its cruel stroke, choking the air from his lungs and cleaving his flesh nearly made him shudder... and it was a child who had asked. He studied the red and black wounds on his wrists from his chains, wondering how long they had been swollen like they were now.

"I..." he began but didn't know what to say. Though these people had shown him incredible kindness, the fear of them turning him over to his former state of slavery once they discovered the truth of his past froze his lips. The blonde of the little girls' hair reminded him of the blonde hair and once-kind face of the woman who had bought him and his stomach felt heavy. Judging by the pain in his shoulder, his brand had been torn away with the rest of the skin in the area. He clung to the hope that they didn't know he was a slave and struggled to think up an alternative explanation.

Lilliana was gently pulling a quilt up over his shoulders and spoke a she did so. "I'm sure it's a long story, and one that you can tell us later, Ronon. That medicine is going to make you fall asleep in a few minutes."

She stepped back as he let his shoulders relax, his mind getting too sluggish to come up with a probable alternative explanation for his injuries, anyway. His eyelids were beginning to droop as Lilliana pinned the curtain shut once more, giving him a smile. "Sweet dreams."

He lay awake for a short while, hopeful of the fact that if he could heal and keep his identity a secret, there was a good chance he could find the stargate and bring back help to rescue Teyla. He fell asleep wishing she were there beside him, safe out of harm's way.

* * *

Teyla was curled in on herself on her side, silently weeping on the dirt of the floor of the barracks, shuddering from the cold and the weight of her loneliness, vowing to find some way to give Ronon's death a meaning beyond her ceaseless misery.

**_Please review!_**


	11. XI Unwinding

_**Author's note:**_ _I may soon be leaving on a two week trip, so there may be no updates for a few weeks. It all, unfortunately, depends on what the fires to here in northern California. Hope you're all safe and well! ( 6/27/08)_

**XI. Unwinding**

He awoke again to his shoulder gently being shaken

He awoke again to his shoulder gently being shaken. Lilliana was leaning over him with an oil lamp. She smiled when he opened his eyes then sat down in the chair, setting the lantern on the small table beside the cot. She reached out to feel the temperature of his skin again. "Time to eat."

He rubbed his eyes, sighing mutedly before blinking up at her sleepily.

She smirked. "You've been sleeping for over a day."

The surprise of that woke him up more and he hoarsely asked "I have?"

She nodded. "Thought I'd wake you up to eat again. I probably should have sooner but you looked so peaceful that I figured you needed it. Plus, you didn't wake when the girls got in a fight so you were sleeping pretty deeply."

He struggled to sit up and Lilliana reached out to brace him again. His body wasn't as shaky so she waited until his dizziness cleared before she handed him the bowl so he could feed himself. He quietly thanked her and took a bite. She braced an elbow on her knee and rested her fist under her chin, watching his movements. "You look stronger. Do you feel any better?"

He nodded as he took another bite.

"Good." She patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Then finish the whole bowl. I'll be back with fresh dressings for your wounds." She rose and he could hear her footsteps fade in the quiet house. He continued eating as he waited, once more running through the possibilities of escape and rescue for Teyla. Though he felt guilty deceiving these people, he couldn't risk them knowing the truth if there was the possibility of them turning him over to the plantation. And as he felt his strength trickling back into his limbs, thoughts of leaving teased at his mind. As a Runner the kindness of strangers helping him had once cost many lives and he wished no ill upon his newfound saviors.

Lilliana returned with several rolls of white gauze and a jar. She set them on her lap as she sat in her seat once more. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled into a loose braid and she was wearing what looked to be a nightgown.

She took the bowl when he finished eating then leaned across him to open the curtains of a window beside his cot. He gazed outside. The trees bordering the meadow in which the house had been built were rustling gently, their leaves glinting in the pale light of predawn. Lilliana leaned back, sitting in her chair again. "Once it's light enough I'm going to change your bandages, okay?"

He swallowed then nodded.

She pointed behind her and to the left. "The bathroom is just there should you need to use it now that you're eating again."

He followed her hand gesture with his eyes and nodded again with a quiet "Okay."

She began knitting something from a nearby yarn basket and his face fell as he realized that she intended to sit there until it was light out. He watched her fingers work nimbly with the wool and needles, feeling his shrunken stomach expanding and shifting after the meal. She glanced to him as she knitted. "So you have no memory of being in the river?"

Though she was gazing at her needlework, he studied her face, noting how the thin lines of her visage betrayed the age that was hidden by her youthful countenance. His voice was scratchy at first yet regained its normal deep tone. "I don't remember anything about how I got here."

She rested her yarn work in her lap, looking to him. "You must have been unconscious the whole time."

He sighed, looking down at where his leg was throbbing and finding a healing cut on his quad.

"You had a very high fever when Bri found you. She thought you were dead."

He looked up to meet her pale gaze, stilling from the firmness of her usually lyrical voice.

"How does a nearly-dead man with his back torn to shreds happen to find his way into a river?"

His heart rate was quickening as he held her gaze, apprehensive of the insinuations in her statement. He tried to keep his voice as equivocal as possible but she noted the renewed shakiness of his arms. "I don't know."

She cocked her head at him in scrutiny then began knitting again, her voice light once more. "Well you are one lucky young man, I'll tell you that much. You have some will to have pulled through. I thought you were dead a few times earlier in the week."

His shoulders silently sighed, relief calming his pulse since she had changed the subject. "I'm sorry I scared you."

She shot him a smile. "It's alright. It's not your fault. I'm sorry my girls redecorated you." He furrowed his brows in confusion and she quietly chuckled. "Let me get a mirror." She set her knitting aside once more and disappeared in the direction of the bathroom. When she returned she caught him examining his arms for any new hand-drawn decorations. "Here." She handed him a mirror. "Your hair was a dreadful mess. They took turns combing it out but I'm afraid the side you were lying on is still... interesting."

He glanced to her then looked in the mirror, his lips parting as he noticed that not only had his goatee been trimmed down to almost nothing, but what was salvageable of his hair had been brushed out and now grew in the dark curls that he hadn't seen since he was barely out of boyhood.

When he set the mirror aside she held up a brush, motioning for him to turn around. He crossed his legs and pulled the quilt onto his lap, cringing inside as his back twinged, making his eyes water. She perched on the cot behind him and began picking at one of the remaining lock stumps, careful not to bump his bandaged back. "I've never seen hair like this before. Are you form one of the northern tribes?"

He shook his head a little, wadding the covers in his hands as an unfamiliar warmth spread through him from her gentle tugging. "No. I'm from Sateda."

She glanced at the side of his face as she worked. "I've never heard of Sateda. Where is it?"

He shifted his gaze to the lightening outdoors. "It was my homeworld... but the Wraith destroyed it."

She'd stopped brushing. "I'm so sorry. That's terrible."

He shoved back the memory of the bombed-out buildings and the scent of Melena's burnt flesh. "...Yeah."

She began brushing again and he sighed, relaxing under her gentle strokes and her silence. After brushing out one lock she pulled away, setting the hairbrush aside after showing him with a smile how full of shed hair it was. She turned off the oil lamp and he was surprised by how light it was outside. She grabbed the gauze and jar and climbed back onto the cot behind him, guiding his shoulders to angle his back towards the light of the window then set to work, gently unwinding his bandages. "This will hurt a little."

"It's okay." As he felt the air sting against his open injuries as the bandages were removed, the panic that she would see whatever remained of his brand returned and he felt his pulse surge. He asked her a question in an attempt to distract her. "Are you a healer?"

She glanced at what she could see of his face and spoke with amusement in her voice. "That's the first time you've ever spoken on your own accord."

He turned to look at her over his shoulder and she forced the amusement from her features. "No, I'm not." He turned away. "But my mother was. I learned a lot from her." She carefully peeled off the last bandage and wadded it up, scrutinizing the wounds. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain as she gently prodded the edges of the lash marks. "I think they should air out a bit before I wrap them again." He began to relax, rationalizing that his brand must have been torn away when she asked, "Would you like to see what it looks like?"

He hesitated then responded with a quiet "Sure." She rose and carried away the stained bandages, returning with a bowl of water and another handheld mirror.

"Here." She handed him the second mirror then guided his arm with it to a position near his eyes. She then held up the first mirror, angling it so he could see the reflection of his back. He wrinkled his nose slightly at the orange and red scabbing wounds, coating themselves with defensive slime.

She arched a brow knowingly. "And that's how they look after a week of being tended to."

He parted his lips to respond when she shifted the mirror unintentionally as she gently touched the puckering side of one lash wound. His heart slammed into his ribs. He could see nearly the whole of his brand on the back of his right shoulder.

Lilliana pulled her hand away when she felt his body go rigid, about to ask if she'd hurt him when she noticed what he was looking at in the reflection. With a sigh she leaned over, gently pushing his arm down, dropping her voice quietly. "It's alright, Ronon."

Though he was stiffly gazing at the quilt he could feel her eyes attempting to latch onto his and he slowly looked to her as she continued.

"I know you're a slave. We've known all along." She shook her head a little, their eyes locked onto each other's. "We're not going to hurt you or turn you over."

He blinked, his eyes suddenly stinging with tears of relief as her words sank in, alleviating the lung-gripping panic that had consumed him.

Her expression was pained as she studied the squall of fear, relief and trust in his eyes. "You're safe here."

He blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek.

She sighed and cocked her head at him, resting one hand on his shoulder and squeezing his hand with her free one. "Have you ever heard of the Abolitionists?"

He shook his head, wiping at his cheeks as another tear fell.

"We're a group who strongly disapprove of slavery and are struggling to end it. Forever."

He let out a shaky sigh, his brows furrowed, the words in his chest suddenly released by the warmth of her hand on his shoulder and his faith in the good will she had shown him countless times already. "My friend-" he paused, correcting himself. "The woman I love is still there."

"The name you asked for earlier?"

He nodded, wiping at another unbidden tear. "Teyla. I was trying to escape to bring back help but I... I came back to get her to bring her with me and I was caught." He worked his jaw for a moment as the memory of the whipping flooded his senses with chilling fear again. "I was whipped and... she tried to help me but I can't remember what happened. The last thing I remember is her lying beside me."

She slowly shook her head. "I've heard that at times they throw the bodies of dead slaves into the water or leave them out for the animals to eat. They must have thought you dead."

"...Or close enough to it."

She was quiet for a moment, studying his features as he composed himself. "You weren't born on this planet so you weren't born a slave."

He shook his head a little, sniffling. "No. I grew up on Sateda and was a soldier when the Wraith attacked."

She furrowed her brow. "How did you survive?"

He glanced to her then away again. "I was taken in the culling. They made me a Runner for seven years."

Her eyebrows leveled out. "...I can't imagine... no wonder you survived this torment. You're a warrior."

He met her gaze again then his eyes shied away, the pain in his back a constant reminder of his debilitation. "I hope I still am."

She sighed, dropping her hands to hold one of his in both of her own. "You are. You've won against death."

He took a deep, shuddering breath before looking to Lilliana again. "Teyla and a team of explorers came to a planet I was on when I was Running. They helped me – they took the tracking device out of my back and gave me a new home. We were out on an exploring mission when Teyla and I were darted and we woke up in chains. Then we were sold."

She shook her head minutely, her voice firm. "That's disgusting. That form of slavery is illegal but apparently still occurring."

He furrowed his brow. "How is _any_ slavery legal?"

"It was this way when I was born. It's been for over two hundred years, that's why we're trying to change it but the government is so slow in acting and they're heavily influenced by the merchants who support slavery since its free labor. The merchants in turn pay most of the taxes on their crops so they're where the government gets most of its funding."

The Satedan looked away. The idea that the horror and pain he had witnessed in his two month or so of servitude stemmed from centuries of the same mistreatment was incomprehensible. "I've known the cruelty of the Wraith, but I never thought humans could be just as bad."

She looked down to his hand held in hers, quietly saying, "I know. It's shameful." She looked back up to his green gaze. "But you are among friends now. All you need to do is rest and heal. We'll do what we can to help free Teyla, but we must be cautious. There is violent opposition to Abolitionists in many of these parts. Only those closest to us know where our loyalties lie."

He nodded, understanding. "What about the Ring of the Ancestors? If I could get there I could-"

She was already shaking her head. "It is in orbit around the planet and only the very wealthy or those under their employ have ships."

He gritted his teeth, looking back out the window. It was now light enough to see the details of the world outside.

She released his hand and reached for her jar of salve. "I'm sorry – this will probably hurt."

"It's okay. I'm very grateful for your help."

She dipped her fingers in the pungent sludge then touched some to one of his wounds. Though he didn't cry out, she could see him tense at the sting in the salve's healing poultice. After a few moments she could hear his breathing quickening so she attempted to distract him from the pain. "What is Teyla like, Ronon?"

He closed his eyes, feeling sweat beading on his brow and nose yet his lips curled in a small, wistful smile. "...Incredibly kind and patient. She sees the good in people... even when they can't see it in themselves."

"She sounds lovely. I'd very much like to meet her."

"...You share her kindness."

Lilliana smiled then cleaned off her fingers and grabbed a fresh bandage. "What's she look like?"

He opened his eyes, the pain dimming. "She's about as tall as my chest... she has brown hair that gets lighter in the sun. Her skin's a little darker than mine and her eyes are... brown like the rich soil of a riverbank."

"Oh you can do better than that," Lilliana teased as she wrapped a bandage around his chest. "You tell the woman you love that she has eyes the color of river mud?"

She grinned as he actually laughed out a "no" and he felt the creeping sensation of heat blushing into his cheeks.

The floorboards creaked loudly and a mustached man appeared, finishing buttoning his collar. He smiled when he saw the two and spoke in a deep, friendly voice, looking at Ronon. "Ah, so I see you really are alive, after all. Every time I see you you're just sleeping."

"He does that a lot," Lilliana chimed in as her husband took the vacant seat by the cot.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ronon. I'm Curtis."

"Thank you for your generosity, Curtis. If there's any way I can repay your family I'll-"

"Oh please." He waved a hand at him dismissively. "Seeing you alive and well after I thought I'd be digging your grave is payment enough."

Lilliana finished fastening the last bandage as Ronon humbly looked away from the man, struggling to find words to accept this family's incredible kindness.

Curtis looked to his wife. "How're his injuries?"

"Better. The swelling has gone down, at least."

He nodded. "Good. The girls up yet?"

Lilliana rose off the cot, gathering up the excess bandages and shaking her head no. "They should be soon."

"Alright," Curtis sighed as he rose, bracing his hands on his knees as he did so. "I'm off, then. That damn cow's on a schedule."

Lilliana kissed his cheek as he hugged her before he stepped away to put on his outerwear. She put away the supplies then came back to Ronon. He was in the middle of a yawn when she reached over to adjust his pillows. "How long were you a slave?"

He lay back down, stiffly tugging on the quilt. She reached out to help him. "I don't really know. A few months, I think. But it felt like ages."

She sat on the edge of the cot after bringing the quilt up over his shoulders. "Do you know which plantation you were on?"

He rubbed his eyes with a sigh. "I don't know. We were bought by a blonde woman."

Lilliana bit her lip. "It obviously was someplace upriver..."

"It was big, too."

She nodded. "I'll look into it. You should try and get some rest. You still have a lot of mending to do."

He nodded, yawning again. "I can't believe I'm already tired again."

She reached across to close the curtains of the window once more. "All your energy is going into healing. Just relax and try not to worry too much, okay?"

He looked away from her, knowing it was going to be impossible to chase away his worry over Teyla, especially if Teyla believed him dead. Lilliana patted the top of his head and tugged the makeshift curtain shut. "Sweet dreams."

"Thank you."

Though he couldn't see her behind the green patterned swath of cloth, he could hear her footsteps as she walked away. He nestled his head against the pillow, breathing in the comforting stain of his own scent on the fabric, mulling over the information he had leaned about the planet. Communicating with Atlantis through the stargate was next to impossible and the fact that he didn't even know the names of his former masters made him bristle in annoyance.

Yet Lilliana's words had helped to soothe him and he clung to the hope that, with her help, he and Teyla would soon be reunited. He focused on the memory of her arms around him and of the warmth of her breath against his collarbone as he drifted to sleep once more.

**_Please review!_**


	12. XII Warning

_**Author's note:**_ I'm back! Though unfortunately I didn't have as much time to write as I thought. I'll update as often as I can, but it won't be everyday anymore. My apologies!

**XII. Warning**

He awoke to quiet voices and the snap and hiss of a distant lit fire. He opened his eyes though he couldn't see anything in the darkness save orange light in the room beyond his small alcove. He sighed, shifting a little since the arm of the shoulder he was lying on was tingling. He closed his eyes as the feeling flooded back into his arm, letting the hushed voices and the sounds of the fire soothe him until he heard Bo's voice.

"But how come they hurt him?"

"'Cuz they were mad at him," Brianna answered.

"That's part of the reason, Bri," Curtis commented, keeping his voice quiet. "But they also wanted to scare the other slaves – make them afraid of being punished like he was if they ever tried to escape."

Bo's voice was angry. "I wanna hit the person who hurt him as hard as I can."

"That isn't ladylike, Isabeau," Bri reprimanded then Lilliana's voice chimed in.

"There's no such thing as ladylike and unladylike, Bri. I understand how you feel, Bo, but I don't think that hurting them back would change anything."

"It's always better to talk first," her husband added. "And to try to change someone's opinion before it comes to fighting."

"The slavers think it's okay to hurt people like Ronon because they don't think of him as a person," Lilliana attempted to explain.

Bo sounded slightly amused. "Then what _do_ they think he is? An octopus head?"

The two girls giggled and when they quieted Curtis continued. "They see their slaves as pieces of property – like a tool. You know how I sometimes get mad when I hit a rock plowing?"

"Yeah," Bo said. "And you start cursing and kicking the plow and Sam gets scared."

Lilliana chuckled and Curtis had a laugh in his voice as he responded. "Exactly. Only the slavers think it's okay to do that to people."

"But _why_?" Bo asked.

He could hear a sigh from her father. "I don't know, Bo Bo. They were taught that it was okay and grew up believing it, just as you believe that it's not okay to hurt other people like they did to Ronon."

"Well then they're idiots."

"That very well may be true," Lilliana responded. "But look how late it is. We need to all get to bed."

There was the rustling sound of fabric followed by footsteps as Bo began to whine to her mother then giggled as her father did something to amuse her. The voices and footsteps faded and Ronon let his eyes shift away from the curtain, his mind stirred awake by the quiet conversation he'd overheard. The child's fierce defense of him glowed in his heart, warming his chest with tendrils of trickling affection. He knew with certainty that he was now safe and vowed to protect this family if ever harm came to them. In his experience, hearts that welcomed, loved and guarded with such openness were hard to come by, and if there were something that this planet certainly needed, it was more of this kindred.

* * *

"Did you hear what they are saying?" Binti excitedly asked as she washed alongside Teyla. The two women had become close since Binti had comforted Teyla in the moments after discovering Ronon's death.

"About what?" Teyla replied as she scrubbed the earth from her arms, wincing as the cuts there were irritated by the rubbing.

"One of the drivers has been missing for more than a week. They have been waiting for his return." She glanced to the other slaves who were washing with them.

Teyla furrowed her brow and pretended this was all news to her. "Go on."

"Today I heard that they saw crows going in and out of the West field all day."

"And they found a body," an older male chimed in, his eyes wide with emphasis and excitement.

Teyla studied him and kept her voice level. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Binti continued. "The body of the slavedriver – Jenkins. They said he was all torn to pieces from the crows." She laughed, as did the man. "Can you imagine? Not so tall now, is he?"

Teyla forced a smile, darkly wishing that the crows had slowly eaten Jenkin's entrails while he yet lived, for he was the reason Ronon was no longer there to whisper against her temple or share the heat of his heart with hers. "Do they know how he died?"

Binti shook her head, giggling. "The crows ate so much of him they could not tell _anything_."

"We think a slave did it," gushed the man, grinning, his teeth standing out in stark contrast to his ebony skin. "Imagine – a slave killing a driver and getting away with it. Ha!"

"Like in a story," Binti giggled. "The old ones that our grandfathers used to tell."

Teyla continued to smile, finishing her washing. Binti and the other man continued to playfully gossip and Teyla's smile faltered. She was safe. The drivers wouldn't suspect her now. Ronon had died for nothing.

* * *

"When I ran into Tom yesterday, you know what he asked?" Curtis smirked at his daughters scattered around the rough-hewn dinner table. Liliana took a bite of a bean and looked to them all as well. "He said, 'Those girls of yours are the prettiest bunch I ever did see. They got boyfriends yet?'"

A chorus of "eeews" rang up from the blonde heads as Liliana and Curtis laughed.

"I told him as much," Curtis chuckled. "I said, 'Tom, you have no idea what you're talking about. My girls would sooner lick a boy in a fight than—'" he cut himself off as he looked up in surprise. Liliana's smile faded at his expression and she craned her neck to look behind her.

Ronon was leaning against the archway frame, clad in the baggy, cotton collared shirt that Curtis had lent him along with a pair of breeches, studying them all with a sheepish expression.

Liliana immediately rose. "Ronon," she said with surprise, looking up, still unused to how much taller than her the Satedan was since he hadn't had much occasion for standing lately. She grinned at him. "Did you wish to join us?"

His cheeks burned a little as he kept his eyes on the food rather than the faces. "...If it's no trouble."

"On the contrary!" Curtis said as he rose, shooing a cat off the chair in the corner of the kitchen and setting it down at the table.

"You know you're always welcome." Liliana smiled as she handed him a plate. "I'm so glad to see that you're feeling better."

Ronon smiled and quietly thanked them both as he eased into the chair, careful not to let his back bump against it. He looked to Brianna on his right and the twelve-year old smiled at him. He smiled back and she took a bite of potato. Liliana passed Ronon the roast.

"Papa says I can beat up a boy," Isabeau grinned as she chewed.

Ronon smirked at her. "I'll bet you could beat up _two_ boys."

Bo laughed and chewed up green bean fell out of her mouth.

"That's disgusting!" Brianna squawked as Sanura the toddler laughed.

Liliana was laughing as well and handed Bo a napkin.

"Oooops," Bo laughed.

Ronon smiled lopsidedly. "Happens to me all the time."

That caused the family to burst into giggles again. Ronon glanced to Brianna at his side. She was resting her head in one hand, laughing, her cheeks flushed. When she noticed his playful gaze she laughed even harder, cheeks growing crimson.

* * *

She had expected a head count, a disciplinary lecture, an example to be made of one of the slaves. She even contemplated offering herself as the culprit, taking the punishment dealt, half-heartedly hoping it would spell her end. Instead, no announcement was ever made. No warnings were ever given. The drudging monotony of slave life continued.

Once it was clear that no action was to be taken on the part of the drivers, Teyla barely took notice. She continued her work, though with less fervor than in the days and weeks directly following Ronon's death. By her estimation it had now been a month since she had last felt his breath against her skin, though she couldn't be certain. Time passed in intermittent rushes and long, heart-twisting exhalations.

She sat beside Binti, eating her evening meal in silence. She wrinkled her nose as the stinging scent of pipe smoke slithered into the eating area. She glanced at the lounging drivers nearby, smoking and chuckling as they relaxed, languidly watching over their charges. One of the men eyed the teenaged girl collecting dirty dishes, tipping his hat to her with a wink as she took his. Teyla's stomach grew cold and the lightest flush raised the hair on the back of her neck. The girl couldn't be more than thirteen.

She looked at the slaves around her. Binti was absorbed in her meal, eating quickly. The dark-skinned man who had shared in Binti's excitement over Jenkin's death was doing the same. Several others licked their bowls clean while the majority looked as if they were restraining themselves from stealing the rest of their neighbor's food, gnawing hunger still clawing at their stomachs and souls.

A child swallowed hard, looking at the half-full bowl of the man next to him as he ate, his lips peeling and flies buzzing near his head. One landed on his ear and made its way to the dirt in the corner of his eye but the child was so used to the nuisance that he didn't even bat it away.

For the first time since her will fled with Ronon's last breath, Teyla felt the fire of inspiration in her breast. The longer she studied the little boy, the longer her eyes lingered on the lean muscles of the slaves, the longer the chuckles of the drivers continued, the hotter the fire in her breast grew. Binti had noticed her friend's stillness and lightly nudged her with her shoulder, silently reminding her to eat the rest of her half-finished stew before they had to clear out for the next group of slaves to eat.

Teyla ignored her and rose to her feet. Binti furrowed her brow and watched her rise. The Athosian held her head high and her hand that carried her bowl steady as she stepped past several tables and over to the little boy. One of the drivers noticed and straightened. Several of the slaves bumped each other to watch. The little boy looked up at Teyla with his slanted brown eyes. Teyla smiled at him and wordlessly swapped his empty bowl with her half-full one. She rested her hand on the boy's head for a heartbeat then stepped away. The drivers were silent as she set the boy's empty bowl into the stack of dirty dishes then strode to her quarters, her shoulders squared.

_**Please review!**_


	13. XIII Listening

**XIII. Listening**

Liliana found the progress her patient had made to be truly remarkable. When they'd found him, he'd been so wounded and weakened that even his raging fever had been quenched for lack of energy to sustain it. When Brianna had first burst into the house frantically screaming about a dead man by the river, she'd followed her down to the bank and tugged her away, her mind racing with for how to explain murder to her children as they buried this stranger. Yet after she'd found a weak pulse she'd screamed to Brianna to fetch Curtis. If a body could survive what this one had, then it housed the spirit of a warrior. And a warrior he was.

Liliana was sitting on the cot beside him, pride brimming in her eyes as she watched him button up his shirt on his own. Such a simple task, but for one whose back was a healing mass of lash marks, no task was simple. Ronon's fingers fumbled over the last few buttons, flinching for him.

"Here," she quietly said as she reached over, finishing up the last buttons for him. He let out the faintest sigh as his hands gave way to hers and she offered him an amused, slightly chastising smile. She'd swiftly noticed that when fever didn't speak the truth for him, her houseguest did whatever he could to hide the pain he was in. This was no end of frustration for the healer in her and she learned to detect the slightest signs of his discomfort. But there's only so much a body can take – more often than not her mothering side found his warrior code of fortitude to be just damn annoying.

"You know, if you don't tell me what's wrong or where you're hurting, it will only take longer to heal."

He blinked as his eyes shied away from hers. "I'm fine."

She arched a brow. "Ronon."

His gaze returned to hers of its own accord at her matriarchal tone. "I can see right through you, anyway."

He raised his brows. "Well, if you can see right through me then why do you need me to speak?"

She pulled her hands away from his buttons, having finished. "Because it would make my task a lot easier, that's why."

He gave her a half-playful, half cocky look.

"You better wipe that look off your face, young man, or I'll use that stinging ointment next time."

Ronon looked away with a shy smirk, realizing she'd just scolded him like one of her children.

Liliana caught her tone of voice, as well, and tried to repress her smile over how well he already fit in. She let her smirk show and patted him on the shoulder as she rose. "Don't say I don't love you. Now go help Brianna with those eggs. She's waiting for you."

Ronon watched her step back into the kitchen with a warming heart, savoring the security of the moment for a few heartbeats before rising to find Brianna.

* * *

She noticed more slaves furtively looking at her as she worked in the fields. The drivers no longer ignored her or gave her half-concealed approving glances. Instead, they watched her longer than the others. Teyla didn't mind. She pretended that she didn't notice the change and maintained her mask of stoic determination, quietly living each day, doing what was expected of her. After a few days, however, the drivers seemed to lose interest and returned to their old habits, just as she'd thought they would.

The insects hummed and buzzed. Slaves here or there coughed. The _snap_, _snap_ of fruit being harvested continued. After the nearest driver had ridden a distance away, Teyla lifted her voice.

"I call out to my sister,

I say where you gone?"

Several slaves looked to her. She'd never begun a song before and this variation was unknown to them.

"I call out to my brother,

I say 'Don't be long.'"

She continued to work though infused her voice with more power.

"I cry out to my mother,

I say 'Make me strong.'

I cry out to my father,

I say 'I sing your song.'"

Several slaves hummed their own melodies along with her tune or cried out brief shouts of encouragement, listening intently to learn the new song from the woman who held her shoulders like a warrior.

"Hands are bleeding',

But my heart is strong.

Back is broken,

But my faith lives on.

So long as I have my soul,

I'll never be gone."

As she started up the chorus again, she couldn't help but smile at how quickly the other slaves had learned the lyrics as they lifted their many voices to join in.

"I call out to my sister,

I say 'Where you gone?'

I call out to my brother,

I say 'Don't be long.'

I cry out to my mother,

I say 'Make me strong.'

I cry out to my father,

I say 'I sing your song.'"

As the chorus faded away, she raised her voice to a near-shout.

"My hands are bleedin'

But my heart is strong.

When we carry each other

Love lives on.

Oh, when we carry each other

Love lives on."

* * *

Ronon cocked his head at all the different colored eggs Brianna was placing in the basket that he held.

"Different colored hens lay different colored eggs, and sometimes they get real mean and don' want you to take 'em because they went through all that work laying them."

Ronon winced, watching a few hens waddle past, scratching and pecking at the sand with chortling noises. He looked from the size of the eggs to the size of their feathered bums. "...I don't blame them."

Brianna gave him a questioning glance.

Ronon shrugged as much as his healing shoulders would allow him. "Just seems like it would be painful to spend all day growing this hard thing ¼ as big as you then... shoving it out, only to have it stolen."

Brianna gave the hens a sympathetic look. "Yeah, I guess so..."

"But they'd just rot if you didn't collect them."

"Yeah." She shouldered a braid over to her back and placed the last of the eggs into the basket. "Plus they forget that they ever even laid one after a few minutes."

Ronon smirked and Brianna smiled back and looked away, stepping over to open the gate to the coop so that they could exit. She latched it behind them.

"Thanks for all your help."

Ronon smiled, showing some teeth for a fleeting moment. "All I did was stand there."

"Well," Brianna dragged out the word as she took the basket from him. "You were learning so that you can do it on your own someday."

Ronon laughed a little. "Oh, okay. I get it."

"What?"

"You just think I'm gonna wind up taking over all your chores."

Brianna went a little pink. "I never said that."

"Mmm hmm," the Satedan teased.

"What'cha doin'?"

Both turned to look at Bo as she trailed over with their dog.

"Stuff," Brianna quickly replied, tucking some stray wisps behind her ears.

Isabeau noticed Ronon studying the dog. She patted her head. "This is Sniffer."

Ronon raised his brows. "Sniffer?"

"Bo named her when she was five," Bri muttered. "Sniffer's the one who found you on the riverbank."

"Then she really does have a good sniffer," Ronon said as he stepped over to the dog. Sniffer sniffed his hand, her tail thumping, then Ronon scratched her head. "What a good dog."

"She's the best in the _world_," Bo enthused, hugging Sniffer around the neck. Ronon smiled.

Brianna cleared her throat. "C'mon, Ronon, I have to show you where we store the eggs."

He gave Sniffer a few more pats then followed Brianna who looked annoyed when Bo and Sniffer trailed behind.

"Did you know I could do a cartwheel?" Bo asked him as they crossed the meadow grass to the house. Ronon shook his head no. "Watch!" Bo bounded a yard away and did a cartwheel, laughing and tugging at her shirt as it fell a little.

Ronon smiled. "That was good."

"I know," Bo replied as she tucked her shirt back into her breeches. "I'm really good at them. Better than Brianna."

"Who _cares_, Bo?"

"I am anyway."

"Yeah, cuz you always wear pants and it's easier to do them in pants."

"You could wear pants, too, you just don't want to."

"Be quiet, Bo."

"_You_ be quiet, Bri."

"I said it to you first."

"Is that a roof?"

Both girls looked away from each other and over to Ronon. They furrowed their brows as they followed his gaze to what was indeed the roof of their house.

"Uh... yeah," Bri answered.

Ronon nodded his head, as if calculating the dark shingles, silently congratulating himself on his awkward means of breaking up their escalating quarrel. "It's a nice roof."

He continued walking towards the house. Bo and Bri stared at each other in amused confusion and tried not to laugh before following him.

* * *

Binti's back was pressed against Teyla's and she could tell by the other woman's breathing that she wasn't asleep. "Teyla?"

"Hmmm?"

She rolled over to better look at what she could see of her friend. "Where did you learn that song?"

Teyla sighed, forcing herself more awake. "Um... I just made it up."

"You did?" Binti sounded somewhat incredulous.

"Mmm hmm."

The Athosian almost fell asleep again as the sounds of slumber once more filled the air for several heartbeats. "...Teyla?"

It took her a moment. "Yes?"

"My son... who died... he was the child of one of the drivers."

Teyla opened her eyes. The visible moonlight silvered Binti's ebony skin. The glint of Binti's eyes shied away from hers. Teyla grabbed her hand and squeezed it. Binti squeezed back and when she spoke again, she was fighting tears.

"After many times... and they pretend the child is not one of theirs. I do not even know which driver was the father... but they let him starve. One of their _children_... my _son_." She let out a sob.

Teyla hugged Binti's head to her chest, swallowing hard. Binti wrapped her arms around her as she wept. When her friends' tears eventually slowed, Teyla spoke through her tightened throat. "The man I lost... his name was Ronon. He was a warrior who has killed many Wraith. To see him die... in a place like this..." she had to pause as she choked up. "...So wasteful... so disgraceful."

"I'm sorry," Binti whispered.

"As am I." Teyla sniffled. "But after he died, you told me to live for the both of us."

"Yes. It is how I keep my Rarek with me always."

Teyla nodded and smiled, smoothing Binti's hair down. "And that is well. I do the same with Ronon... but I cannot do this anymore."

Binti pulled away to try to look at her, sharply inhaling. There was fear in her voice. "What do you mean?" Her voice quickened with panic as she gripped Teyla's clothing. "Teyla, I cannot lose you, too —"

"You will not."

There was a moment of silence before Teyla spoke again. "There are more of us than them – _far_ more."

"Teyla..."

"Organized, we cannot fail."

Binti relaxed her grip at the strength in Teyla's voice.

"If we rise up together, as one, we will take back our freedom."

"...But they have prods and whips. They have the food and the horses – "

"Which all amount to nothing against our resolve."

Binti was quiet.

"We will pass the word, and when the time is right... we will rise."

**_Please review!_**


	14. XIV Tugging

**XIV. Tugging**

Ronon awoke from his light sleep at the sound of the door creaking open. He recognized Curtis' heavy step as the man closed the door and hung up his hat and coat with a sigh. Ronon was tempted to fall back asleep until his sluggish mind jolted him with memory. Curtis had already stepped into the kitchen and he could hear Liliana's light step as she left her bedroom to join her husband.

Ronon shoved the covers off him and hastily sat up, only to wince as his healing scabs were stretched. Curtis and Liliana were whispering and he paused long enough to don a loose shirt before shoving back his curtains and rising. He hobbled for a moment until his back cooperated and he could walk normally.

Curtis and Liliana paused their conversation as they turned to look at him when he entered. Ronon looked from Curtis' face to Liliana's. Her heart wrenched at his anxious expression. He looked back to Curtis. "...Anything?"

Curtis sighed and looked away. Ronon's shoulders slumped and he diverted his gaze.

"There are several large plantations upriver. Just because I couldn't find her at this one doesn't mean she's not out there, alive and well."

Ronon stiffly nodded, looking at the ground. Liliana stepped over and rested a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find her, Ronon."

He nodded mutely once more, only meeting her gaze for a fleeting second before swallowing hard and stepping away. He wanted to thank them. He should thank them. He just couldn't move his vocal chords.

Liliana cast Curtis a pained look as Ronon stepped back to his cot and closed the curtain. He bit his lip as he lay back down, his throat burning. After a few moments of resistance, he gave in and squeaked into his pillow as tears escaped. He so painfully longed to hold Teyla, to bury his nose in her hair, to feel her heart beating against his and to hear her voice... the thought that he may never see her again was enough to make him wish he could stop breathing.

Liliana handed Curtis the bowl of soup that she'd saved for him.

"Thank you, love." He caught her hand as he sat down and kissed it. She hugged him and kissed the top of his head. "I'll look again when I go out next week."

Liliana nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course."

She kissed his forehead. "I love you, darling."

He snuggled her. "I love you, too."

She pulled away to smile at him before detangling herself to return to bed. She paused when she heard the quiet gasps of tears from behind Ronon's curtain. She let out a silent sigh and continued back to her room yet after a few moments, she doubled back. She tugged his curtain aside and hesitated only a moment at the sight of the forlorn Satedan. She sat down on the edge of his cot and ran her fingers through his hair. He turned his head away in a feeble attempt to hide his tears so she leaned down and gently hugged him, mindful of his back.

Her voice was a whisper. "It'll be all right, sweetie." She brushed a few stray curls off the side of his face. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her as he wept, unashamed of his tears before one who knew the rawest of his wounds. Liliana ran her fingers through his hair and rubbed the healed portions of his back, letting him cry into her shoulder. The fact that he made an effort to hide some of his physical pain during the day yet was now limp in her arms with tears made her heart swell with the trust he placed in her. She quietly sang to him.

"Tempted and tried, we're oft made to wonder  
Why it should be thus all the day long;  
While there are others living about us,  
Never molested, though in the wrong.

Farther along we'll know more about it,  
Farther along we'll understand why;  
Cheer up, my brother, live in the sunshine,  
We'll understand it all by and by.

Often when death has taken our loved ones,  
Leaving our home so lone and so drear,  
Then do we wonder why others prosper,  
Living so wicked year after year.

Farther along we'll know more about it,  
Farther along we'll understand why;  
Cheer up, my brother, live in the sunshine,  
We'll understand it all by and by..."

He eventually pulled away, wiping at his tears with his shoulder. Liliana smiled at him, tucking his hair back once more. "Only the bravest hearts cry." He faintly returned the smile and she rested a hand on his opposite shoulder, tugging him towards her, encouraging him to rest his head on her shoulder until his breathing returned to normal.

* * *

Teyla bit her lip, her fingers nimbly moving over the berries, skillfully avoiding the thorns. Today was a good day – harvesting from the vines meant that she and her fellows didn't have to bend in the fields all day. Yet without the ache in her back to distract her, her mind had begun to wander. She should have bled by now. She'd seen the moon wax and wane. There was the possibility that she was with child... Ronon's child.

Half of her rejoiced at the thought, of once more being able to touch and feel a part of him, to give her heart to a little star that shone with both she and Ronon's light. Yet her hopes were twisted and gnarled in the darkness of the life around her, feeling like her wings of potential happiness were weighted down by the cracking whips of the slave drivers. She'd seen firsthand how difficult it was for a child to survive the harsh conditions of slave life.

If Ronon had not died, she might have considered attempting to force a miscarriage to avoid her child being born into such circumstances and for taxing her body. She flushed at the selfish thought but she knew it was pertinent – some evenings she was just too tired to even walk to the latrine so she would wait until morning. Though the idea of doing anything to harm her own child, much less the child that would be the bittersweet remembrance of she and Ronon's brief time together, was enough to make her divert her thoughts somewhere else, as if she could ignore the problem long enough to make it go away.

Binti was working nimbly beside her, also enjoying the lighter workload the vines provided in comparison to the fields. But as Teyla glanced at her and her stoic features, a voice whispered "If not now, then later." One driver or another would attack her again. Even if she did not carry her and Ronon's child to term, chances were that she would carry one of the drivers'. Straining an already weakened body, bringing an innocent into a world of starvation and blood, a lifetime of pain for the mother... all for ten minutes of pleasure for men who truly believed they deserved what they took.

She yanked too hard on a berry and broke off a few leaves. She slowed when she was struck with the thought that the Wraith often had more dignity than the humans she and her team had fought so long to spare and protect.

* * *

"We walked all the way to the creek today. You know that one that comes out of the ground up over by that big cliff?" Bo said as Liliana finished helping Sanura into her seat then took one herself at the full dinner table.

"It's not a cliff, Bo, it's just a hillside," Brianna quipped as she buttered herself a slice of bread.

"It is too a cliff, isn't it, Ronon?"

Ronon was afraid to look up from his plate as he served himself peas, lest either girl fix him with one of their "side with _me_" gazes. "Well... looked more like a hillside that had half fallen off, making a kind of cliff."

Curtis chuckled. "You sure you aren't a diplomat, Ronon?"

Ronon flashed the older man a brief smirk as he passed him the peas. "I'm sure you learned to be one a long time ago."

Curtis laughed heartily as Ronon chuckled. Liliana shook her head at the two but was glad to see how well they got along. Ever since Ronon had pulled through his fever, Curtis had stopped his playful griping about being trapped in a house with four women. She'd often wished they'd had a son, knowing she'd go insane trapped in a house with four men, and couldn't help but notice how her husband treated Ronon not only as a welcomed guest, but as a long-lost cousin or nephew. She knew by the light in their eyes that it was good for both men.

Though he'd hardly spoken of his life before slavery, Liliana had picked up more than enough clues to piece together her own patchwork of Ronon's possible past. He'd said that he was a Runner and that his homeworld was destroyed, which would be enough to break any soul, but Ronon held on like a lone reed in the wind, bending and giving but never bowing, never breaking. At first she'd assumed that he'd come from a large family which was why he found his way so easily into hers, but after watching him with her daughters, noting how there were times that he seemed to be retreating into a himself, she wondered what sort of a family he'd had at all growing up.

Her musings about him entertained her mind while she washed dishes and beat out rugs, providing her a breath of fresh air as distraction from the many details of her daily life that, at times, could latch onto all corners of her mind and bog her down. He provided such novelty, in fact, that she hadn't yet felt the desire to visit a friend or to go into town just to speak to someone outside of the walls of her cabin and her pre-teen's mood swings and eight-year-old's stubbornness and her toddler's clinginess. But if that's all I have to complain about, she thought, I am truly blessed. All she had to do was look at Ronon to be reminded of how blessed a life she led.

His body was healing, but there was often a distance in his eyes, deepening the thin lines in his face, aging his shoulders. She knew he was most likely thinking about Teyla, but she also knew that he must grieve the many years stolen from him by circumstances out of his control. When Sanura would smile at him or climb up on his lap his eyes would scrunch up in a rare, heartfelt smile, and she could tell that a part of him raged against the life he'd led and his warrior philosophy and longed for something more meaningful: fatherhood.

"See? It _is_ a cliff," Bo's insistence on her point of view drew Liliana back into the present. Brianna just narrowed her eyes at her little sister. Bo stuck her tongue out. Sanura mimicked her, making a funny sound and they all laughed.

"That's about four miles roundtrip, isn't it?" Liliana asked.

Curtis nodded. "Just about. There was a big mudslide three winters ago – took off half the hillside."

"That's pretty far. Did your back bother you at all, Ronon?"

The Satedan shook his head no.

Bo grinned. "He's almost all better, then he can build a room and live in it instead of that cubby and he can stay here forever."

Ronon gave her a lopsided grin and Bri bowed her head to take a bite, trying to hide her smile.

"I don't know about that, Bo," Ronon lightly chuckled.

"Hell, why not?" Curtis asked. "There's a beautiful patch of land just across the river. It would be the perfect place for a little house."

Ronon eyed him for a moment. "But that's your land."

Curtis shrugged. "So? You and your lady could build yourselves a place and we could join forces, become a joint farm."

Ronon studied him, fighting back a blush at Curtis' generous words. "I... I couldn't... you worked hard for that land."

"Then if it makes you feel better, you can pay me off when you have the money."

Liliana eyed Curtis in surprise. Her husband was a kind man who gave everything to his family, but he'd become suspicious and slightly paranoid after years of hiding his abolitionist sentiments. He didn't trust easily. He was also a hard worker and a good problem-solver, but he didn't think the fastest on his feet. He generally needed a few hours, at the least, the weigh the pros and cons of a given situation, or to determine the most expedient way to do a thing. His affection for Ronon truly was as strong as she'd suspected: he'd been planning this out for some time.

"I wouldn't mind sharing if it'd keep you around longer, kiddo. Rumor has it you like to wander a fair bit."

"Not by choice," Ronon caught himself saying before he'd given it much thought. The realization that he'd been living in Atlantis for three years up until now struck him as odd, and what Cutis offered was more than enough to make his heart leap. Remain near this family he now considered his own, live a life where he could have the luxury of devoting himself to Teyla, day and night, while living off the land, being the recipient of the fruits of his labors for once.

"Well, think about it." Curtis smiled and Ronon sheepishly returned the gesture.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you like, Ronon," Liliana added, "as I hope you well know."

The Satedan nodded, his voice dropping in tone as his fleeting eyes betrayed his humility before their generosity. "Thank you."

Curtis patted him on the shoulder then stabbed some noodles with his fork. "It's the least I can do."

Something about Curtis' response sent a shiver of warning down Ronon's spine. He didn't sort out why until that night as he tried to fight off his worry over Teyla enough to sleep. While he didn't doubt this family's warmth and honest affection, what Curtis had said made him realize that both Curtis and Liliana may be going to such lengths of welcome for him out of a sense of guilt because he'd been a slave. "It's the least I can do..." Ronon hadn't done anything for which he needed to be repaid. This family didn't need to give and give because they pitied him, as if by caring for one slave they could somehow mend the institution itself.

His brow was deeply furrowed, half-disgusted by his own thoughts. _They care about me, of course they care about me... and of course it matters that I was a slave. So why does that bother me?_ The answer came on a sigh as he shifted to lie on his side. _Because I'm not even from this world._ _Because there are thousands of slaves more deserving of this kindness than me... and Teyla's one of them._

**_Please review!_**

**Author's Note:** "Farther Along" is a traditional American folk song. Check out Brad Paisley's recording of it! :)


	15. XV Biting

**XV. Biting**

Ronon had walked out of the house and disappeared outside after Curtis told him the news that, once again, he had failed to discover which plantation Teyla was on. Curtis knew better than to follow him out and sighed, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table. Liliana and the girls were out, visiting some friends. He rubbed his eyes, admitting to himself for the first time that Teyla very well could've been at one of the plantations he'd visited, but she may have been traded, sold or killed before he got there.

He knew Ronon knew this, as well, and that with each passing day the Satedan grew more and more restless. His body was healed and was regaining the muscle he had lost during his enslavement and recovery. The tall lad was a tremendous help around the house and his girls loved the company. But the more his family seemed to attach themselves to Ronon, the more Ronon seemed to gaze at the sunsets, his eyes growing more and more distant during quiet moments.

A half hour later, Curtis heard a thunk thunking sound from behind the house. He stepped out to find Ronon splitting firewood. Curtis sighed as Ronon swung the axe with unnecessary force, the blade digging into the chopping block with each stroke. "You wanna talk?"

Ronon ignored him and split another log. Curtis looked away, unused to Ronon being moody, not knowing how to proceed.

"...No one's giving up, you know."

Ronon glanced to him as he set another piece of wood on the block.

"There's still a good chance we'll find her. Hell, she could even be at one of the places I already looked but maybe no one recognized her."

Ronon furrowed his brow. "That's supposed to be comforting?"

Curtis sighed. "Look, Ronon, I know you're frustrated, but... we're doing all we can."

Ronon looked away and slammed the axe down again. "No we're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I should be out there."

Curtis shifted his weight. "We've been through this."

"Yeah?" Ronon looked to him, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Well I don't care anymore."

"If you get caught and sold again what good do you think you'll be doing Teyla, huh? Answer me that."

"You're not helping!" Ronon bellowed as he tossed the axe aside, surprising Curtis with the strength of his voice. Curtis took a step back as the Satedan's chest heaved. He quieted his voice some. "You're not changing _anything_."

"Ronon, we're _trying_, you know we're – "

"It doesn't make a difference." He shook his head, angry at the tears that stung his eyes. "None of it does. You think that by helping me you're somehow changing your world?"

Curtis narrowed his eyes.

"Because you're not. You're _not_! Helping one slave doesn't make a difference!"

"It's all we can do!"

Ronon blinked, catching his breath, as Curtis glared at him.

"Helping you, finding Teyla, keeping you safe – that is _all_ we can do, Ronon. You're frustrated? Well so are we."

Ronon shifted his weight, pressing his lips together, his eyes locked onto Curtis'.

"I wish there were more. I wish we could make a bigger difference. But I've got my wife and my girls and if any harm came to them... I can't risk it, Ronon."

"...So instead you let other families be ripped apart. You let others die."

Curtis held out his hands. "What do you want me to do? Put my family in danger? Raise an abolitionist army and try to free the slaves? I'd be killed, Ronon. I'd be killed and so would my family."

The fire feeding Ronon's words had fled as he knew that Curtis was speaking the truth. "...No."

Curtis sighed and stepped forward to rest a hand on his shoulder. "There's only so much a man can do, son."

Ronon studied him for several heartbeats.

"You've gotta know your limits."

Curtis' hand on his shoulder reminded him of the strength of Sheppard's grip and the light in McKay's eyes when he'd had a revelation. "One person can do a lot more than you give credit for." Ronon stepped away, tugging off his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face as he headed for the creek. Curtis sighed and let him go, the pale latticework of scars on Ronon's back biting his tongue for him.

* * *

Binti studied Teyla with a furrowed brow. "Are you certain?" she whispered, keeping her voice low so as to not wake their sleeping fellows in the barracks.

Teyla nodded. "I cannot know without a doubt, but it has been two months."

Binti swallowed hard, her brown eyes etched in worry. The Athosian found herself letting out another small sigh, hating that any news of her possible pregnancy was met with worry and fear as opposed to excitement and joy. Binti squeezed her hand. "Many women here do not bleed. They work too hard... they are too lean... the blood doesn't come with each month."

Teyla nodded. "I know. Perhaps that is the cause."

Binti sighed and hugged her. "If it isn't, I will help you, if I can."

Teyla forced a smile, hugging her back. "I know you will, Binti. Thank you."

"You are my sister."

Teyla was quiet for a long moment, letting her words wash over her. "...And you are mine." Her throat had tightened so much that it hurt to swallow, and as she nestled against Binti to go to sleep, a few tears escaped. She let out a shaky sigh and rested a hand on her abdomen.

In order to help free her sisters and brothers on the plantation, she was going to have to risk bodily harm, not only to herself, but to her and Ronon's child. She took several deep breaths as the tightness in her throat receded. She knew that if Ronon were there, he would understand the risk she was about to take. She could almost see his eyes alight with concern and hear his voice whisper, "Just be careful" as he hugged her. She fell asleep trying to remember what it felt like to have his arms around her, her heart aching for the beat of his.

* * *

Ronon came back to the cabin after it got dark out. Curtis had mentioned to Liliana that the two had been in an argument and that Ronon had needed to be alone. While she trusted that her husband hadn't said anything out of place or unnecessarily rude to Ronon, an anxious part of her kept glancing out the window as she prepared dinner. She let out a breath of relief when the Satedan had walked through the door and crossed over to hug him tightly.

Ronon stiffened a little, slightly surprised by her sudden affection. "I was worried you weren't coming back."

His lips parted at her confession and his mind and heart stumbled over a response. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

After a moment she pulled away, looking up at him to cup a cheek. Ronon smiled back until she pinched it and he yelped. Liliana laughed. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Go wash up."

Ronon smirked and stepped towards the bathroom, surprised by his relief at the normalcy of her treatment of him when he knew that she must've known of he and Curtis' argument. "You saying I stink?"

"Lemme see," Bo said as she marched over from the kitchen.

A corner of Ronon's mouth lifted in amusement. "Isabeau, you always show up outta nowhere."

Bo sniffed the part of his clothing that she could reach – his pants. "Yep, you smell like a dead pig."

Ronon narrowed his eyes at her then lunged for her so suddenly that she squealed first in surprise then laughter as he scooped her up, tossing her into the air then catching her by the armpits, loudly sniffing her hair. "Ewww. You smell like potatoes."

"I was peeling 'em," she said through giggles.

"Isabeau, come finish, please," Liliana called from the kitchen. "Let the dead pig go wash."

Ronon kissed the top of Bo's head and set her down, happy to notice how quickly the eight-year-old had managed to turn his mood around.

A blonde was missing when the family sat down for dinner twenty minutes later. Curtis nodded at Ronon in a small smile and Ronon had returned the favor, each letting the other know that everything was all right between them.

Liliana leaned back in her chair, shouting into the rest of the house. "Brianna, we're _eating_ now."

"I'm _coming_!" she shouted back then showed up a minute or two later. Ronon and the rest of the family did a double-take. The top section of Brianna's hair was pulled back in two neat braids and the rest of her blonde locks fell onto her shoulders. She was wearing a dress that looked nicer than anything Ronon had thought a girl of her lifestyle would own. He hastily glanced around the table, gauging her parents' reactions, wondering if this was some local holiday that they'd regretted to inform him about. Curtis and Liliana shared a brief, surprised and amused look but said nothing. Ronon took that as his cue and pretended that he didn't notice that the young girl taking a seat next to him was dressed as if she were going to a ball.

"What the heck are you _wearing_?"

Ronon snorted into his water. Count on Bo to be blunt.

Brianna blushed and glared at her. "Pass the bread, please."

Liliana handed it to her with a small smile. Ronon could tell she was trying not to laugh. "I didn't know you fit into that dress already, sweetie. Grandma made that for me when I was sixteen."

"I guess I'm just taller than you."

Ronon glanced at her to try to see the dress in question and Brianna was waiting for his gaze and smiled at him. He smiled back then looked down to his plate, realizing with a flush of horror and amusement that the girl had dressed up for him.

Curtis noticed how red Ronon's face was getting and started chuckling then tried to cover for it. "Maybe you were just a midget then, Lil."

"Must've been," Liliana responded with a smile, slowly shaking her head.

Ronon smirked. Even staring at his plate he could see that the dress was hanging well over Brianna's feet. He stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth to try to hide his smile.

Ronon's blush began to recede and the amusement of the others began to calm down to a more normal level when Bo once more proved her oblivion to the rest of the table's politeness. "Why are you wearing that dress now?" Her brow was furrowed. "Are you going to a dance?"

Brianna blushed again and looked murderous. "Maybe I just wanted to look nice, unlike you."

"Brianna," Curtis scolded.

Bo self-consciously looked down at her trousers and collared shirt.

"You girls all have natural beauty. You look gorgeous no matter what you wear," Ronon said, surprising even himself. Bo and Brianna grinned at him while Curtis looked as if Ronon had just complimented him instead of his girls. Liliana smiled. "Ronon's right."

Ronon smirked proudly.

"You're pretty, too." Bo said. The smirk fell off of Ronon's face. Curtis' bark of laughter drowned out Brianna's snort and giggles as the rest of the family laughed so much that they couldn't breathe. Ronon glared at Bo who only pointed and laughed at his red face.

**_Please review!_**


	16. XVI Laughing

_**Author's note:**_ As always, you can read this chapter on my site with music and pictures. Just see the first chapter for the address!

**XVI. Laughing**

Teyla stepped towards the girl ladling out the evening meal, her shoulders squared against the eyes of the drivers. When the other slaves waiting in line saw her approach, they shuffled to the side, eyes tracking her form, respectfully letting her step to the front of the line. Teyla smiled a little, guilt-ridden by this special treatment, but reminding herself that their reverence meant that she needed to respond in kind, as a true leader... as a symbol.

She held her bowl out to the young woman who smiled shyly before casting her eyes down and serving her a ladleful of stew. Teyla dipped her head. "Thank you." The girl smiled again in return and Teyla strode purposefully over to an empty seat at a table. She watched the drivers share a fleeting look then begin to whisper amongst themselves. She didn't need to hear what they were saying – their eyes spoke for them.

Binti glanced to her, worry on her face. Teyla met her gaze then gave her a brief, comforting smile before taking a bite of her stew.

Later that night, as she and Binti lay down to sleep in their barracks, Binti clung to her in a desperate hug. "They are going to punish you."

Teyla relaxed against her friend but did not hug her back. "I know."

"I cannot bear knowing it." Binti pulled away to look Teyla in the eye. "They may kill you."

Teyla studied her friend at length then climbed to her feet, raising her voice. "These men know only how to govern through fear." Those still awake looked to her, nudging their fellows out of sleep to listen. Teyla waited a moment as she heard their shifting. "...Were they suited for any other work they would not be here as drivers. They are here by choice while we are not... but we _always_ have a choice." She paused, somewhat surprised someone hadn't asked her to keep her voice down. "Any day now the drivers will attempt to punish me. They see me as your leader. When that time comes... it will be our moment to rise up, as one, and reclaim the freedom that is guarded from us by prods and whips and torture and rape... and I promise you, the next time you sing, your lungs will be full of the breath of hope."

"They already are," one man spoke and several others murmured their agreement. "...But how do you expect us to fight? We have no weapons."

She looked in his general direction, the light too dim to see him, recalling both Ronon's words about the drivers loving submission and her own observations. "They want us to be afraid, so we shall use that to our advantage."

* * *

Ronon tossed the bound grain up to Curtis, who stacked it in the back of the wagon. Sam the donkey rested one hoof, his ears back, his eyes drooping in the sun. Ronon grabbed another green bushel and tossed it up to Curtis, pausing to swat at a fly that was buzzing about his bare, sweat-slicked torso. Both men were working in a rhythm, no words needed, lifting and hauling, lifting and hauling.

Liliana had sent Bo and Brianna out to bring them some water. Bo skipped ahead once she caught sight of them but Brianna nearly tripped over the hem of her dress and was suddenly shy, wishing to the gods that she wasn't the one holding the pail of water. She began to blush the moment she saw her father and Ronon notice her.

Bo had already bounded over and grabbed a bushel of grain that was bigger than she was. Curtis and Ronon laughed as she tried to lift it up to her father, determined to help. Ronon took an end for her and lifted it up to Curtis, who winked at him. "Why thank you, Bo."

The little girl hurried to grab another bushel and Ronon laughed as she carried it back, but it was so big that she couldn't see where she was going and began wandering off in the opposite direction. "We're over here, Butterfly."

Bo looked over her shoulder. "Oh!" She tried to run towards them and tripped but climbed right back to her feet and began her trek once more.

Curtis grinned at Brianna as she approached. "Hey there, princess. What're you two up to?"

"Momma said to bring you guys some water."

Ronon went to help Bo lift her armful of grain but instead lifted her whole body for an aerial grain drop. She laughed then he seated her on the end of the wagon beside him as he took a seat. She looked up at him, her eyes scrunching up in the sun. "Are ya thirsty?"

"I'm parched," Curtis sighed, taking off his hat to wipe at his brow. He was about to reach for the ladle when Brianna suddenly strode past him and offered the water to Ronon first. Curtis tried not to scowl at being ignored by his own daughter but realized that with Ronon around, he might as well get used to it. He'd never seen Brianna being so composed around her sister for so long, which at least was a nice relief from their usual little quarrels.

Ronon didn't notice and drank several large gulps before handing it back to Brianna, who was pretending that she was very interested in the grain on the ground and not him. As Brianna carried the pail back over to her father, Bo leaned over to peer at Ronon's back. Ronon noticed and craned his neck to look at her.

"It's all bumpy..."

"Yeah," he responded, a small part of himself having to be steeled against the child's innocent curiosity, his pride in check.

"Can I touch it?"

"I'm all sweaty and gross, but sure."

Bo delicately poked at a few of the scars with the tip of her finger. "They don't hurt, do they?"

Ronon shook his head, his hair tied back in a small ponytail.

"I have a scar that kinda looks like that, too," she stated as she straightened and pulled up her pant leg, struggling to bunch the material up enough to reveal her knee.

Ronon hissed when he saw the small scar on her knee, pretending it looked worse than it was. "Ooo, that looks like it hurt."

"It _did_."

"How'd you get it?"

"Brianna pushed me and I slipped in the river."

Brianna looked horrified. "I did _not_!"

"Yes you _did_, you pushed me, don't lie."

"I barely touched you and you _fell_."

"I wouldn't've fallen if you hadn't _touched_ me!"

Brianna looked as if she wanted to say something more but clenched her jaw, looking away. Curtis was impressed and hoped that Ronon could stay forever as argument repellent.

Bo had already moved on and was fingering the little curls of Ronon's ponytail. "Can I play with your hair later?"

Ronon smirked lopsidedly as Curtis laughed. "Uh... I guess so."

"He's a _boy_, Isabeau." Brianna stated, in case she'd forgotten.

"Yeah but he likes it." Bo suddenly gasped with an idea. "If you shaved off your beard I could make you look like a girl!"

Ronon's expression was a cross between amusement and horror that made Bo laugh. Brianna was red in the face. "He looks fine how he is."

Curtis' eyes widened and he had to cough to hide his surprise at his daughter's statement. Brianna seemed to catch how forward she'd just been and glanced fleetingly around before looking down to her pail then back to the men. "Well do you want more water or not?"

Both were still thirsty, but for the sake of Brianna's pride they both declined and allowed her to offer the rest of the water to Sam then march back to the house.

"Can I help some more?" Bo asked as Ronon helped her off the wagon, knowing that she was a little small for her age but loving how lightweight she was.

"Of course," Curtis said. "How 'bout you start making piles of the grain over there so that it'll be ready when we get to it?"

"Okay!" Bo dashed off in that direction.

Ronon grinned at Curtis who chuckled and shook his head. Ronon's smile grew lopsided once more. "I love your kids."

"They're really something else, aren't they?"

"You're a blessed man, Curtis."

"Yeah," he sighed, looking over at Bo who already had three bushels in her first stack. "I really am."

* * *

Teyla looked to the ground as the driver approached, two others flanking him. He coiled the whip in his hands. "You're coming with me." She kept her gaze downcast as she followed the men into one of their sleeping quarters, only casting Binti a brief look of acknowledgement as one of the men loosened his belt. The door was slammed behind her.

* * *

Curtis tapped his foot on the wood of the porch for a moment before he pulled his bow across the strings of the fiddle, beginning a warm tune. Bo and Sanura were chasing fireflies with a net and a jar and turned to look at their father as he started up a new tune. Liliana began to clap in time to the music with a little cheer as Bo and Sanura became more frantic in their firefly chase, laughing and stumbling in time with the music. Ronon and Brianna were seated on the steps of the porch, both resting after a feast, including several pies made from the berries they'd picked earlier in the day. Brianna looked over at Ronon with a smile and he laughed back: her two little sisters were now jumping about wildly and Liliana started cracking up at their antics.

Curtis had to take a break after the piece he just played, getting a drink of water and chuckling as Sanura teetered on the spot, dizzy. Bo took her hand and led her off the grass and over to their mother, who scooped her up. After a few moments' rest, Curtis started up another lively tune. Liliana took a seat on a nearby rocking chair with Sanura in her lap then nudged at both Ronon and Brianna with her foot. "Go dance!"

"Yeah, like this!" Bo said as she leapt off the steps then began to wobble about in circles. Ronon and Brianna laughed and he got to his feet when Lilianna's foot digging into his back got annoying.

He gave the older woman a mock-offended look. "I don't know how to dance."

"Brianna will teach you."

"Yeah, c'mon," Brianna replied as she grabbed his hand and led him down the steps.

Ronon sighed, trying to tell himself that it was alright if he looked like an idiot since he did most of the time anyway.

Brianna took each of his hands in hers then laughed as she looked up at him. "Well, you're too tall..."

He smirked at her. "Thanks a lot. I'm gonna go cry now."

She giggled, unable to stop smiling, then began a box step. Her strides were so small in comparison to Ronon's that the Satedan figured he didn't actually need to move, but stepped along with her anyway, picking up on the pattern to the movement.

"Looking good!" Curtis shouted over the noise of his fiddle. Ronon shot him an embarrassed look that clearly said "shut up." Curtis laughed. "Don't flatter yourself – I was talking about Bri."

Just then Bo smacked into the two as she weaved about, so dizzy that she couldn't walk straight.

"Bo, watch it. We're trying to _dance_."

"Ugh," Bo made an unhappy sound. "...I don' like this..." She held her head in an attempt to stop it from spinning.

"Just go in circles the opposite direction," Lilliana shouted and Bo did as she was told, smirking when it helped a little.

Brianna and Ronon continued their waltz and Bri looked down at their feet after she accidentally stepped on his toes. "Sorry!"

"You should be – I'll never walk again!"

She didn't have time to blush as she laughed and Ronon smirked. When the music picked up, Ronon took the lead and began to move faster across the meadowgrass and Brianna laughed again, running to keep up as he danced her about in circles and figure eights while Bo ran laps around them, stripping off her shirt and flinging it into the air behind her, making the two laugh again. Ronon grabbed Bri by the waist and spun quickly about with her, making her squeal and laugh. She giggled and brushed her hair off her face after he set her down.

Bo charged into him and clomped onto his leg. "Dance with me, now!"

"You bet, Butterfly." He scooped her up and tossed her into the air and she shrieked as she flew, belly-laughing once he caught her.

Bri laughed, stepping aside as she caught her breath and cooled down. Ronon smiled at her. "Thanks for the dance, pretty lady."

She beamed and nodded as Ronon turned away to twirl with Isabeau.

Brianna stepped back over to the porch to take a break while Liliana stepped out with Sanura, dancing with the toddler. Bo was screaming wildly as Ronon held her by the arms and spun in circles, making her fly.

It took a long while to calm down after their festivities that evening, and Liliana had the girls sit with her while she read from a storybook, trying to get them tired. Ronon eventually wandered in and sat down with them, listening to the story as well, and the sight of him sitting cross legged on the floor with the three blondes was too much and Liliana kept laughing as she read. "This is boring," Bo sighed. "I want a different story."

"I'll tell you a story," Ronon said as he lay down on his stomach, resting his face in his hands.

"It better be appropriate," Liliana said dryly.

Ronon rose his brows innocently. Bo looked between the two. "Apopiate?"

"Appropriate," Liliana corrected. "That means it won't give you bad dreams."

"Tell the story," Bri said, lying down on her tummy as well, adjusting her nightgown.

"Okay, once there were these three little girls and they lived out in the woods and ate apples all day."

"What?!" Bo interrupted.

"They really liked them." Ronon shrugged. "And their names were Brianna, Isabeau, and Sanura."

"Then one day Sanura farted and they all died. The end." Bo went red in the face from laughing at her own joke.

Ronon couldn't breathe he was laughing so hard, along with the others, and Liliana took that as her cue. "Okay, story time's over. Get your little booties in bed."

"But I want to hear the end of Ronon's story," Brianna giggled.

"Um..." Ronon tried to speak again through his laughter. "One day this tall man came to visit."

"And his name was Ronon!" Bo added.

"Yes," Ronon continued. "And one day he and Brianna –"

"And he had even worse farts than Sanura and they all died _again_!"

Ronon laughed once more, giving Bo a look that clearly said "you're a hambone."

Liliana picked up Bo and began walking her towards the bathroom. "You are too wound up."

Ronon climbed to his feet and picked up Sanura, who looked about to fall asleep. Brianna rose, as well, and if he'd looked to her he would've seen how desperate she was to hear the rest of his story, but she held her tongue when he chuckled as Sanura's head thunked against his shoulder and she fussily buried her face in his shirt.

He smiled at Bri. "Sweet dreams, pretty lady."

She grinned then hugged him. "Sweet dreams." He ruffled her hair then she scurried off to the room she and Bo shared, diving onto her bed, her face still alight with a smile. Curtis was still out checking on the animals and Ronon could hear Bo giggling as Liliana tried to get her to cooperate and brush her teeth so he stayed in the living room with Sanura until she could come fetch her youngest.

Brianna was still smiling when Liliana finally tucked Bo in and bid them both goodnight before taking the sleepy toddler from Ronon with a smile and kissing his cheek with a "sleep tight." Brianna rolled over onto her side, biting her lip. He'd called her "pretty lady," twice. He'd obviously nicknamed her that because he thought that she _was_ pretty. And that dance... she sighed, feeling for sure that Ronon was going to end the story with, "And one day he and Brianna got married." It took her hours to fall asleep.

**_Please review!_**


	17. XVII Billowing

**XVII. Billowing**

Teyla stared at the dirt floor.

"Strip," one of the drivers ordered.

She glanced up at him and pretended to modestly cast her eyes away as she reached up for one of her shoulder straps. In reality, she was glancing to the other two drivers on either side of the door, posing as guards, waiting for their turn with her. Both were relaxed and anticipatory. As she pulled down her strap and revealed her brand, the driver smirked. "Not so special, are you?"

She closed her eyes in mock humiliation, reaching for her other strap, slipping her hand in against her skin, her fingers curling around the handle of a trowel. She feigned that the strap was stuck and tugged on it. The impatient driver sighed and reached over to yank it down himself. As soon as he bent over, Teyla yanked her arm back, pulling out the trowel, and hit him in the head with the shovel end.

The driver gasped in surprise and stumbled backwards. The other two blinked out of their stupor and stepped forward. Teyla struck the first driver again, as hard as she could, and he fell to the ground, the side of his head dented and bloody. The two remaining drivers unsheathed a knife and a whip each and after a split second calculation, Teyla attacked the man with the knife first. He charged and swung so she ducked and tripped him, rising swiftly to hit him in the back of the head as he fell.

She then turned to face the last remaining driver. He cracked his whip but hesitated. When he raised his arm to strike, Teyla screamed and charged, tackling him to the ground, dropping her trowel to wrap the leather of the whip around the man's neck, tightening it as much as she could, ignoring his bulging eyes and clawing fingers that scraped at her bare arms, using the memory of Ronon's torture to fuel her resolve.

When he finally went limp, Teyla shakily rose then uncoiled the whip and searched him for weapons. She moved on to the first driver, stripping him of his weapons, as well, yet when she searched the second, he groaned and moved. She didn't let herself stop to think as she viciously hit him in the head again, killing him.

She straightened, tucking their weapons away, her nostrils flaring, her veins coursing with adrenaline. She could hear shouts coming from outside and kicked open the door before exiting. Drivers were galloping up and down the fields, shouting and zapping slaves with prods, yanking some aside to beat them. The slaves had abandoned their posts in the fields and were attacking the drivers with whatever they had at hand. She noticed one man using an uprooted plant to knock a driver off his horse.

Binti screamed as she was shocked by a prod and Teyla raced over. The driver leapt off his horse and raised his prod to beat her, but Teyla slammed into him, tackling him onto the ground then turning his own prod against him. Binti scrambled to her feet as the driver writhed and screamed, her eyes wide. Teyla didn't pull the prod away until the man stilled. She looked to Binti and her friend took a step back, unaccustomed to the wild fire in her eyes. "Are you injured?"

Binti shook her head no.

Teyla handed her a knife that she took off of the dead driver at their feet. "You will need this. Come on."

The driver's horse was nearby, tripping on her reins and dancing in place, nervous from all of the noise and commotion surrounding her. Teyla stepped over and grabbed her reins, tugging her face towards her and blowing into her nose for a moment to calm her down. Binti stepped over as Teyla placed a foot in the stirrup and mounted the mare then held out a hand to her sister, offering her the stirrup as a step. Once Binti was on behind her, Teyla urged the horse forward, regaining her bearings for it had been some years since she'd last ridden.

From their higher vantage point, Teyla and Binti could see just how chaotic the plantation had become. Not only were the slaves and drivers fighting, but many slaves were uprooting crops and a whole field was on fire. More drivers were galloping down a dirt road, headed for them, so Teyla spurred her mount into the fray. "Take their weapons!" She noticed several drivers wounded but still alive. She slowed and locked eyes with the slaves guarding them. "Show no quarter, for they will show you no mercy." The slaves hesitated then turned back to the drivers who began pleading for their lives.

As Teyla and Binti continued into the field they could hear the drivers behind them screaming. Teyla raised her voice above theirs. "As one!" When the surrounding slaves recognized her they threw up a cheer, raising their makeshift weapons. She raised her prod in a return salute, the smoke from the burning crops billowing behind her, crested by sunlight.

* * *

Ronon was helping Liliana and Bo weed their garden in the late afternoon sun. Sanura was napping and Brianna was checking the hens' nest boxes for eggs. None heard the pounding hooves of Crutis' mount until he was a few yards away. "I found her!" he shouted, causing them all to look over at him. "I found her!" Curtis shouted again, leaping off of his gelding before the horse had even come to a full halt, jogging over with his reins in hand.

Ronon hastily rose, forgetting to breathe.

Curtis grinned at him. "By the powers, Ronon, I found her."

Ronon began to smile, but his lips shook with the frantic energy of his pounding heart and his smile flickered between a grin and quiet gasps of incredulous tears. "...Teyla?"

"You're damn right." Curtis was still grinning and Liliana let out a cry of joy, grabbing Ronon's arm.

"What is it, mommy?" Bo asked, dusting off her knees, her hands black with soil.

"Daddy found Ronon's friend – the woman we've been looking for."

Bo grinned. "Is she coming over?"

Ronon was still too stunned to form a coherent sentence. "...Where? How?"

"I've been perusing the records. They're all public – open to buyers who want to research their... well, their stock. I found an entry made several months back. Two offworld slaves, a man and a woman, and the man had a note by him that read 'knotted hair.'"

Liliana gasped out a laugh and Bo giggled.

Ronon grinned. "So where is she? Can we get her? Is she all right?"

"I assume so. Your name was crossed out, meaning that you're deceased."

Ronon furrowed his brow and Liliana squeezed his arm and whispered, "I forgot to tell you... you're dead." Ronon smirked at her.

"But there's no mark through her name which means she's still alive and well. Got the name of the plantation and everything."

Ronon was so overwhelmed that he yanked away from Liliana, took a few steps into the meadow with his hands over his mouth, then spun back to face them. "I'll pay you back. Can we buy her?"

Curtis laughed. "What the hell do you think I came back here for? I'm gonna head on over and pretend to be a buyer."

Ronon dashed to the horse. "It's getting late, c'mon!"

Liliana laughed and Curtis stopped him. "It's a few hours away yet and it'll be suspicious if I show up in the middle of the night. We'll leave a few hours before dawn."

Ronon swallowed hard, frustration in his eyes. "I'm coming with you."

"You can't," Liliana said. "If they recognize you then they'll take you back."

"They think I'm _dead_."

"And we best keep it that way."

Ronon growled and threw the nearest rock he could find. Curtis stepped towards him. "Just a few more hours, kiddo. Just a few more hours."

Ronon stiffened, his shoulders heaving for a moment before he turned back to look at the family, reining himself back in. Brianna exited the coop and hurried over, having heard shouts. Curtis was smiling at Ronon. "Come this time tomorrow, she'll be in your arms again."

Ronon was embarrassed by just how hugely he grinned, unable to stop. He yanked Curtis to him in a monster of a hug, making the older man chuckle then worry when he couldn't breathe anymore.

Brianna stood beside her mother and sister, holding a basket of eggs. Bo grinned at her. "Pa found Teyla and she's coming over tomorrow!"

Brianna stared at Bo for a moment, swallowing, then dropped the basket of eggs and ran into the house, slamming the door. Liliana could hear a muffled wail as her daughter ran to her room and her heart dipped, not having suspected that her eldest had cared for Ronon enough to be jealous.

Ronon had been too busy hugging Curtis and murmuring "thank you," and Curtis had been too busy trying to breathe, to notice the drama behind them. "Thank you _so much_," Ronon said again as he finally let Curtis go, tears in his eyes.

Curtis squeezed his shoulder. "Of course." He started to take a deep breath of much-needed air when suddenly Ronon was squeezing it out of him again.

Liliana stepped into the house while Bo cleaned up the cracked eggs. She paused outside of Brianna's door, hearing sobs. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, hating her daughter's pain, but reminding herself that it would pass and that it was part of growing up. She knocked on the door. "Brianna, can I come in?"

"Go away!"

She hesitated. "Sweetie, I know why you're upset..." Brianna didn't answer so she eased the door open then quietly shut it behind her before going inside. Brianna was stretched out on her bed, sobbing into her pillow. Liliana sat down next to her and for a moment just ran her fingers through her hair.

"It's not fair," Brianna eventually choked out.

Liliana sighed. "No, it isn't."

"I hate her." Brianna sat up a little, turning her red, tear-stained face to her mother. "I wish she had died!"

"Brianna! That's a terrible thing to say! Shame on you – you don't even know this woman!"

"I don't _care_! She's taking Ronon from me. I _love_ him!"

Liliana was silent, stumbling over how to respond, shocked by her daughter's mood swings. "...We all love him, Brianna. That's not going to change."

"You don't understand! I love him and he loves me and we're going to get married!"

Liliana bit the inside of her lip, letting her daughter cry for a few more heartbeats before attempting a response. "Sweetheart, sometimes we think that we're in love when we're really not... sometimes we just really, really like a person. Love takes a long time to grow."

Brianna's eyes suddenly looked hopeful. "So he doesn't really love Teyla? He just really, really likes her?"

"No, sweetie... I think that _you_ don't really love him."

"Yes, I _do_!" Brianna screamed and Liliana knew she'd said the wrong thing. "You don't know how I feel!"

"Ronon loves you, Bri. But..." she searched for a way to explain this to her daughter without further hurting her feelings. "He's not from our world. His customs are different..."

"I don't care. He's _perfect_. And he loves me, you said it yourself."

Brianna sighed, knowing that the only one who could convince Brianna was Ronon, but given that the poor sod had only recently figured out her daughter's crush on him, she'd have to coach him in what to say first. "Well, what do you like about him?"

"Everything." She sniffled, wiping at her tears. "He helps me with my chores and says funny things. He calls me Pretty Lady. He smiles..." She trailed off, blushing. "I love it when he smiles at me. He has the beautifulest eyes in the world."

Liliana smiled, tucking some of Bri's hair behind her ear, proud of her daughter for citing Ronon's personality traits before his looks, but worried over the maturity of feeling that entailed. Brianna really did love him as much as her twelve-year-old heart knew how to. "He does have very pretty eyes."

"They look even prettier because they're so different from his skin."

Liliana nodded and pulled her daughter into a hug. "I love you so much, Brianna."

Brianna sniffled, hugging her back. "I love you, too."

Liliana rubbed her back. "I know that what you feel right now makes it seem like the world will never be the same again, but you're gonna have to trust me that it will."

"Can you tell Pa not to bring Teyla back? She can live somewhere else."

"Brianna," Liliana kept her voice firm. "You know I won't do that. That's very rude and Ronon loves her."

"I don't care."

"If you really loved him then you _would_ care. You'd want him to be happy."

Brianna sounded offended. "But he _would_ be happy with me. I make him laugh all the time."

Liliana sighed and pulled away, knowing that only age and experience would teach her daughter what she needed to learn. "You two will always have a special place in your hearts for each other, Bri."

Brianna let out a shaky sigh and eventually nodded. Liliana hated how miserable she still looked.

Outside, Ronon was helping Bo finish up her chores, grinning at the sinking sun. When they finished he scooped her up and tickled her, placing her on his shoulders for a head ride back to the house, his heart soaring at not only the anticipation of seeing Teyla again, but of sharing this beautiful family that he'd come to think of as his own.

**_Please review!_**


	18. XVIII Burning

**XVIII. Burning**

Every field was burning. The family that owned the plantation had barricaded themselves in their house at the first signs of an uprising, and now lay in pools of their own blood as slaves looted and sheltered under their roof, raiding their food stores. The momentum was unstoppable and spread to the neighboring plantations as a ripple causes waves on the shore of a lake. Teyla clung to the chimney of the plantation house, squinting to see past the smoke.

The surviving drivers had fled for reinforcements and she thought she could see small explosions in the distance. Binti looked up at her from the ground. "What do you see?"

"I cannot be certain..." Another small fire cloud burst into existence where the barracks were. "They appear to be retaliating with explosives of some kind."

Binti swallowed hard and Teyla glanced around at the property surrounding the house, disheartened by how destroyed it was. "...They will burn the house. We must take what we can and hide it. Bury the food."

Binti nodded and began to relay her orders to the surrounding uprisers. Teyla studied the outline of a wagon in the distance, narrowing her eyes against the stinging smoke that was whipped about by the wind. Through the shimmering heat and soot in the air she could make out that the wagon was being pulled by men, and that drivers were inside, pumping some sort of hose... pumping _fire_.

She stiffened, apprehension curdling her stomach. For a moment she wanted to bellow a warning, to issue a full retreat, to run... but the rest of the world was on fire anyway. Soon there would be nothing left to burn. What did she really have to fear? She exhaled so lowly that it was almost a growl. Showmanship. They intended to frighten them into submission. Teyla slid down the roof then leapt onto the ground, pain shooting up her shins as she landed.

"They have liquid fire!" she shouted and Binti and the others turned to her. "Is that the best they can do?"

Several nervously chuckled while others looked wary.

"They know this is our stronghold. They expect us to defend it. Take what you can rescue then find safe ground. I will need help – any without children, please, we must act quickly!"

Binti cast her a worried look, both covered in soot, then stepped forward to help, along with several others. Teyla nodded in appreciation.

* * *

Ronon sighed and winced as his hair was yanked, sending a small shooting pain into his scalp.

Bo furrowed her brow at him as she braided. "You keep doing that."

"...What?"

"Going..." and she imitated one of his sighs.

He smirked.

"That's because he's impatient," Liliana said as she stepped past the two in the living room, shooing Sanura away from the fireplace.

"The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you'll wake up and it'll be tomorrow," Bo advised.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep, Butterfly."

"You're too excited, just like it's Beva Eve."

"Beva Eve?"

"Mm hmm," she replied, starting another little braid. "When everyone gives someone else a present and we eat cookies and climb up on this one mountain at night to watch the stars."

"It's our winter solstice," Liliana clarified, sitting down with Sanura to read the toddler a book.

Ronon nodded his understanding then was scolded for moving his head. "Almost done..." After a few more painful yanks, Bo dashed off. Ronon watched her open the door to her and Bri's room, feeling a ping of guilt. Brianna hadn't come out all evening and Liliana had warned him of the cause ahead of time. A few moments later, Bo dashed back out with a mirror then guided Ronon to the bathroom so that he could inspect his new hairstyle.

He blinked.

Bo grinned at him, stepping on the toilet to climb onto the counter. "You like it? It looks like you have horns."

Ronon smirked at the two braids stemming from each temple and the messy, bow covered ponytail in the back. "I think I'm a monster now."

She immediately recognized the invitation to play and screamed, sliding off the counter and running out of the bathroom. Curtis walked into the house to find Ronon chasing his daughter, looking like a deranged jester. "I _told_ you, Bo, no bringing home creatures from the swamp!"

"Help me, Papa!" Bo leapt at him as he took off his coat, trying to scramble up as Ronon charged at her on all fours, snorting like a pig. He looked so frightening that Bo actually screamed in fear and scrambled more fiercely. At the same moment that Curtis hoisted her up Liliana admonished her and Ronon and warned them to calm down before bedtime. Curtis was laughing and playfully kicked at Ronon as he climbed to his feet. "If she has nightmares I'm blaming you."

Ronon made a face at Bo and she stuck her tongue out at him before Curtis set her down again.

"Ronon, you have too many curls. Your hair will knot if you sleep with it like that. Have Isabeau take it out."

"Okay, mommy," he said as he sat back down, laughing quietly with Bo at the joke that apparently Liliana didn't hear, for she continued reading to Sanura. He winced as Bo yanked and pulled to get his hair loose again. He squeezed his eyes shut as she yanked particularly hard.

"Bo, you're torturing him."

He opened his eyes and was surprised to see Brianna sipping a glass of milk.

"I am not. He _likes_ it." She patted Ronon's head as if he were Sniffer.

Ronon figured that he better seize his opportunity to have a chat with Brianna now, knowing that he'd be distracted once Teyla came. "Hey, can I talk to you a little, Bri?"

Brianna stiffened a little. "...Sure."

Bo didn't let him go until she'd brushed out his hair then he rose and stepped with Brianna into the kitchen where they had a bit more privacy. He sat down in one of the chairs and she silently followed suit, setting down her glass of milk, looking nervous yet expectant as she looked to him. He could tell that she'd been crying earlier and that made him forget all of the advice Liliana had given him and he mildly panicked. "Um... your mom told me why you missed dinner."

Brianna looked so horrified that he wished he could take back what he'd said. "She _did_?"

"Yeah, well, she said you were mad at me," he tried to backpedal.

Brianna looked a little relieved. "Oh."

He decided that playing dumb was his best bet. "I mean... I don't remember having an argument or anything unless when we did you hit me on the head and I forgot about it." He smirked and she shyly returned the smile, looking back to her milk. "I just wanted to say... If I did or said anything that hurt your feelings, I'm really sorry."

She looked back at him and met his green gaze with her blue eyes, reddened a little from crying. "...It's okay..."

He smiled a little and waited to see if she wanted to elaborate further, but when she only took a sip of milk, he knew he'd have to prod her a little more without revealing that Liliana had told him everything. "So just for future reference... what exactly was it that I did?"

She set her glass back down and reached for a napkin, wiping off her lips. "...You didn't do anything. I was mad at Teyla."

He furrowed his brow. "But you haven't even met her yet."

"I know... but once she comes you'll be with her all the time instead of me." She met his gaze, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

He shook his head a little. "Of course I'll want to spend time with her, but you guys are all like family to me now. I'll always want to spend time with you, Bri."

She sighed. "It still won't be the same..." She looked away and he was quiet, giving her space. "I mean... I thought that if you never found her again... maybe we could be together instead." She shyly met his gaze.

He smiled a little and the warmth of it reached his eyes. After a moment he took her hand in his and squeezed it. He could tell her that she was so very young, that he only could see her as a lovely little girl, a sister or cousin; he could tell her that he wasn't worth the effort and that she'd dislike him in time... but instead he told her what he thought she would understand – what he thought would hurt her the least. "Brianna... I know everyone tells stories about two people finding their perfect other half, falling in love and living happily ever after... but the truth is... it doesn't usually happen that way. We can love a lot of people in our lives, and that's a good thing. We're lucky to get to feel that way more than once..." he trailed off, his heart suddenly hammering with the memory of Melena... memories that felt as if they belonged to another man in another life. He refocused his attention on Brianna, who was listening raptly. "But sometimes we meet the right person at the wrong time... or rather, one of the right people at the wrong time."

Brianna studied him for a moment, letting his words trickle in before nodding minutely.

"And, you know," he continued, clearing his throat a little. "Time changes a lot of things. When you get a little older you might not feel the same way as you do right now. I mean... I've changed a lot. I never thought I could actually be with Teyla but... time and circumstances... they change people..." He sighed, realizing he was speaking more to himself than to her and gave her an apologetic smile. "You're beautiful and you're young and you're only just learning about these things. Someday you're gonna meet another guy who you just might like. Give him a chance. It won't be the same, but you never know. You might fall in love and think, 'Who was Ronon, again?'"

Brianna bit her lip and lunged forward to clomp onto his middle. Ronon hugged her back, resting a hand on the back of her head. "...I'll _never_ forget you, Ronon," she murmured into his shirt.

His throat was tightening unexpectedly fast and he looked down, resting his cheek on top of her head. "I'll never forget you, either, Pretty Lady. Not for one second, okay?"

She nodded and wiped at a tear on her cheek.

"You're a very special young woman. You and your sisters are the finest I've ever met. Don't let anyone ever tell you different, okay?"

Brianna nodded and her voice was hoarse with tears. "Okay."

She pulled away and Ronon smiled at her again as he reached out to wipe away one of her tears. She laughed self-consciously. "What the heck was Bo doing to your hair, anyhow?"

Ronon chuckled. "She was trying out a new hairstyle on me."

"What was it? Tangles?"

"...It was by the end..."

She sniffled as she laughed again, her tears drying. Ronon couldn't stand how vulnerable she looked and hugged her again, squeezing her as tight as he dared as he lifted her off her feet before setting her back down with a smooch to her cheek. She tucked her chin to her neck as his lips pressed against her skin, her heart fluttering about in circles but relieved to not feel a blush heating her skin.

"Sweet dreams, Pretty Lady."

She smiled and hugged him briefly again. "Sweet dreams, Freckle Face."

Ronon blinked in confusion. Brianna snickered and scurried out of the kitchen.

Later that evening, bored and anxious for time to pass more quickly, Ronon examined his face in the mirror, wondering how different he'd look to Teyla. He furrowed his brow and leaned in close when he saw something splotchy on his nose and under his eyes. Brianna was right. After all his time in the sun both on the plantation and helping the family, he had freckles. He started to smirk, both at Brianna's cheekiness and at the thought that he hoped Teyla liked freckles, but the realization that he didn't know if she liked freckles or not brought to the surface the many other things that he didn't know about her.

He glanced at his reflection once more before stepping away, his stomach churning anxiously as he tried to wrap his mind around how very much of her there was to know, suddenly afraid that what he did know wasn't enough, that she may have changed, as he'd waned Brianna that people sometimes do, and wouldn't love him anymore. He knew he was disfigured by his scars – he couldn't hide them forever...

He stepped into the empty living room and sat down by the embers of the fire. The house was asleep. Only he had chosen to stay up until the wee hours of the morning, at which point he would wake Curtis. He glanced to the clock. It was still hours yet. He closed his eyes, his anxiety feeding off of his insecurities, growing and taking the shape of a coiled snake until he opened his eyes and let out a shaky breath, remembering the feel of Teyla's calloused fingers against his cheek and the smoothness of her voice. Of course she would still be Teyla, changed, like he was, but still Teyla. And Teyla had one of the most open hearts of anyone he'd ever known. She'd accept the changes in him, as he would her. There would be awkward moments, he knew, especially if she had believed him dead all this time. An adjustment period. But they would be okay.

He let out another shaky breath. They would be okay.

* * *

The drivers approached the plantation house with their wagon. One pointed out the silhouettes in the window and bellowed. "Fire!"

The others began pumping the levers of the pump, filling the hose with pressure and oil, and another aimed the end at the house. Moments later, flaming liquid shot out and coated the wooden walls, burning and cackling against the paint of the house. The next surge splattered in through a broken window, igniting the canvas head of one of the slaves. The driver holding the hose cheered, punching a fist into the air, until he realized that the victim wasn't moving or shouting.

Another surge of liquid fire shot out before he was ready and he had to brace himself and hastily try to rectify his aim. "What the hell, Smith?" Cartman shouted, manning the pump.

"They aren't in there!"

"What?"

It was difficult to discern what each was saying amidst the roar of the various fires nearby. Smith squinted at Cartman, both sweating and covered in grime and tar. "It's some sort of trap! We have to pull back!"

Cartman laughed incredulously. He stopped laughing when Smith suddenly went rigid, a pickaxe embedded in his back. The hose slipped from his fingers and his eyes widened, blinking, trying to clear his failing vision, before he tumbled out of the wagon and onto the charring earth.

"Shit!" one of the other drivers shouted.

"Keep pumping!" Cartman abandoned his post and grabbed the hose, looking wildly about, trying to discern their attackers through the ever shifting smoke. He coughed as a billow blew into his face, momentarily shutting his eyes. When he opened them again, one of the two remaining drivers with him was shouting that he saw one of them. Cartman wheeled the hose about to face the shadow he caught slipping behind the unburned brush. "Pump!" he bellowed and in seconds a jet of fire was streaming into the bushes. "We're gonna kill you all, you filth!" He glanced over his shoulder at his fellows. "Keep pumping!"

The bushes roared into flame and as soon as he saw the movement of people exiting them, he aimed the hose at their bodies and fired. He hollered in triumph when he heard a scream as someone was burnt. As his hose surged again he aimed the stream at the victim's cries. When the fire petered out he waited a moment for his crew to keep pumping, expecting to feel the buildup of pressure again. There was nothing. He frowned. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" He pivoted to look over his shoulder and froze.

His two crewmen were on the floor of the wagon, their throats slit. Two young women stood in their places, each with a knife in hand, their chests heaving, their faces marred by soot. He immediately whirled the hose around, attempting to fling whatever burning oil he could onto the two. Teyla ducked and Binti cried out as several drops splattered onto her skin and singed her clothing. Teyla screamed and flew at Cartman, knocking him off of his perch and landing on top of him.

He recovered enough senses enough to bring a knee up and slam it into her back. Teyla lurched forward and pressed her knife against his throat. He punched her in the face with the side of his fist then attempted to scramble to his feet but her thighs held him in place. He cried out, slamming his fists into any part of her body that he could reach, hitting her in the arms and sides and abdomen. Teyla yanked the blade across the side of his neck, stilling him with the shock of his own blood surging into his throat.

She leaned in close, vaguely aware that the roiling heat against her skin warned of approaching flames. "Do you remember the runaway you whipped? The man you _killed_?"

Cartman coughed. "Several."

Teyla's chin shook. "His name was Ronon, and I want you to die knowing that your actions have led you here..."

Cartman's breath was coming in gurgles. "...Whore."

She screamed and with a deft stroke, slit his throat. Teyla leapt off of him as the plantation house near her collapsed in flame, sending a fury of sparks into the air. The last thing Cartman saw in the seconds of his death were the glowing embers against the black smoke, parting momentarily to reveal a small, approaching ship of a shape he'd never seen before. His life left before he could even wonder.

**_Please review!_**


	19. XVIV Gasping

**XVIV. Gasping**

"What the hell?" Sheppard craned his neck to try to better see out of the Jumper's windshield.

McKay whipped his head to the side to look at him. "That was Teyla, I'm sure of it!"

"I'm doubling back!"

McKay let out a squawk of joy as the signal on his handheld device continued to beep. "We've found her. We've finally found her!"

Though Sheppard was concentrating on landing the ship, Rodney could see the genuine grin on his face. McKay clambered out of his seat as soon as the ship touched down. "Hold your horses," Sheppard cautioned. "We don't exactly know what we're walking into." He shifted his P-90 and held it defensively as he lowered the ramp of the Jumper, glancing to McKay. "Any sign of Ronon yet?"

McKay glanced to his device. "No, not yet."

Sheppard nodded to him then took point, cautiously exiting the ship, squinting and coughing as he was assaulted by a billow of smoke. McKay followed, holding an arm up to shield his eyes. Once the smoke cleared he took a few more steps forward, only to freeze when he heard McKay yelp behind him. Sheppard pivoted and his face was greeted by the sizzling of a charging prod, making him momentarily go cross-eyed.

"Where do you come from?"

The voice was more commanding than the colonel would've expected from the size of the man who held the prod. Another similarly filthy man held a prod to McKay's side.

"Depends on who's asking."

"We – we're just travelers," McKay spat. "Look, we're friends of Teyla's. Do you know Teyla?"

The man holding the prod in front of Sheppard's face blinked. Sheppard furrowed his brow, his voice low. "He knows her."

"Look," McKay tried. "Just let us see her and everything will be all right. We're not here to hurt you – we've been searching for her for months."

The man holding the prod to Sheppard hesitated before lowering it, the man beside McKay doing the same. Sheppard sighed as he cleared his throat a little. "Thank you."

McKay stepped closer to Sheppard and eyed the two men and the smoldering surroundings. "I see we've come at a bit of a bad time, huh?"

"John?"

The voice sounded detached, as if belonging to the smoke pluming in front of him. Sheppard squinted as the wind shifted, blowing the stinging air past his face and clearing the stretch of land before him as Teyla stepped forward, sweaty, sooty and bleeding... but alive. He blinked a few times, his eyes widening, then shifted his weight, his voice a near whisper. "Teyla..."

Her dark eyes searched his face, as if she were looking past what was before her, trying to see a hidden reality behind a dream. He cautiously took a step forward, letting go of his gun to hold out his hand. Teyla shook her head a little, her eyes beginning to shimmer with unshed tears, making Sheppard halt. He clenched his jaw, swallowing past the stickiness in his mouth from the smoke while Rodney studied them both with wide eyes. Sheppard looked to his outstretched hand and let it fall to his side, his mind racing for something, anything to say, when suddenly Teyla strode forward with a choked sob, wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek against his chest.

Sheppard belatedly wrapped his arms around the singed woman, the scent of her scorched hair stinging his nostrils, yet he ignored it as he gently rubbed her back, startled by how much of her spine he could feel. Her fingers pinched his flesh, clutching the fabric of his vest as she let out another louder, unhindered sob. "It's okay," he murmured to her, his throat constricting, his eyes watering from the smoke and the desperation of Teyla's grip. "We're here now. Everything's gonna be all right."

His words sank in over a few heartbeats before she yanked away, her hair falling into her face, her hands in fists at her sides. "Where were you?"

Sheppard parted his lips but Rodney spoke first. "We've been trying to track you down ever since you two were kidnapped. We picked up on your subcutaneous transmitter as soon as we came through the 'gate." He paused as he smiled a little but his smile slipped away when a tear rolled down her cheek. He cleared his throat. "We um, couldn't get a lock on Ronon's though, so I figure he's on another planet? You two were separated?"

"Rodney..." Sheppard didn't look to him but his voice carried the caution that his eyes would have as he studied Teyla in concern.

Teyla shook her head, her dark eyes still locked onto Sheppard's lighter eyes. Her voice took on an accusatory tone. "Where _were_ you?"

Sheppard blinked, his gut wrenching over her reaction and Ronon's absence. "Teyla..."

"We were alone, John. _Alone_!" Her eyes shimmered with tears and Sheppard merely parted his lips. "We waited and _waited_ and you did not come." Her lower lip began to tremble as her voice quieted to a near whisper. "He died trying to save us... trying to save _me_."

Sheppard's face relaxed as his eyes widened and Rodney's usually slanted lips straightened. A tear slithered down Teyla's cheek, all anger in her expression fleeing with it. Rodney's disbelieving voice almost blended with the breeze. "...He's dead?"

Teyla looked to him and the stoicism of her chiseled jaw was all the confirmation he needed. Sheppard swallowed hard, the action clumsy and mechanic, as if his muscles had forgotten how to move. "How?"

Teyla returned her gaze to the colonel, her brow furrowing slightly. Her voice quivered at first but she quickly reigned it in. "He was whipped... nearly to death." She closed her eyes as twin tears slid out of the corners of her eyes before she opened them again. "His fever was high... he died while I was away, out in the fields." Sheppard held her teary gaze, his own beginning to shimmer. "I never even said goodbye... he was all alone..." She bit her lip but a sob escaped nevertheless.

Sheppard stepped forward and pulled her to his chest, hugging her again as a tear slipped down his cheek. "I'm sure you did all you could..."

"It was not enough. I could not save him."

McKay focused his attention on his handheld device, as if staring at the electronic grid long enough would redirect his pain.

"This is my fault," Sheppard croaked.

"No," Teyla replied as she shook her head and pulled back, wiping at her tears. "I am sorry, John... I should not have said – "

"But it's true. If I'd have gotten here earlier I could've saved _both_ of you..."

Teyla sniffled and hugged him again. "You are here now."

Sheppard rested his cheek on the top of her head, glancing to Rodney who had sunk onto the seat of his pants, holding a hand to his forehead.

* * *

"I know, I know," Curtis hissed, double-checking his stirrup.

"I just thought you might've – "

"Ronon, you've told me what she looks like so many times by now that I probably won't recognize her when I see her because you've built up this whole earth goddess image in my head and I can't shake it."  
Ronon lightly smacked his shoulder, his eyes smiling. Curtis chuckled and mounted his horse, illuminated by the porch lantern. Once in the saddle, he glanced up at the clear sky, eyeing the stars. Ronon followed his gaze. "...What?"

"Just wondering which empty spot in the sky you're gonna claim Teyla fell from."

Ronon scowled this time and untied the reins from the hitch up post. "All of 'em at once, then she rose up as a mountain and fell as a waterfall."

"So that's where rivers come from..."

"Exactly." Ronon handed Curtis his reins as the older man chuckled.

Liliana watched the two from the porch, a blanket snug around her shoulders. "Be careful, darling."

Curtis cockily tipped his hat to her. "You know I will, little lady." She laughed and Ronon shoved against the horse's chest to back her away.

"Guess I'm going now..." Curtis chuckled, turning his mount towards the dirt road.

Ronon watched him go. "If you're not back by sundown I'm coming after you."

"We'll be back by midday – just you see," Curtis responded. Ronon grinned. He and Liliana watched in silence until Curtis' outline blended with the shadows and the snorting and clomping of his mount faded.

Liliana jerked her head towards the door. "C'mon back inside and get some rest, mister."

Ronon sighed and forced himself to look away from the road and step over to Liliana. "I'm not tired."

She rested a hand on his shoulder, guiding him into the house. "Just looking at you is making me tired. You think your lady's gonna want to see you with circles under your eyes?"

"If she really thinks I died then she'll be happy to see me at all."

"The poor woman..."

Ronon sighed, trying to force his mind away from the thousands of fearful thoughts over what could've happened to Teyla in the time that he wasn't there to help her protect herself. He was yanked back to the present when Liliana hugged him and kissed his cheek before returning to bed. After milling about for another few minutes he finally decided that she was right and lay down on his cot in an attempt to get some sleep.

* * *

Teyla and Binti were seated on the bench of the Jumper, each being treated by Sheppard. Binti's burns were small but painful and the colonel warned that they would more than likely scar. She only held her head higher, gladly accepting them as battle wounds – a tattoo of her freedom. Sheppard cast worried looks to Teyla as he bandaged Binti's arm. The Athosian looked exhausted, as if the prospect of returning to Atlantis had lifted such a weight from her shoulders that she could finally lower her guard enough to let her thoughts wander where they like, resting her body. But more than that, Sheppard knew, she could finally find the peace to mourn.

"How ya doin' there, Braveheart?"

Teyla blinked, looking over to him and he smiled.

"You still okay?"

She took in a deep breath and stiffly nodded, straightening. "I am greatly looking forward to a bath."

Sheppard smirked.

"Wait a minute," McKay announced as he stepped into the back of the Jumper, joining the three, staring at his handheld device. "This doesn't make any sense."

Sheppard glanced at him, handing Binti the rest of their medical kits. She inclined her head and stepped out into the slowly-clearing air to assist the rest of the injured. "What doesn't?"

"Ronon." He looked up at Sheppard, his eyes roving the American's face for a moment. "If Ronon's body were somewhere on this planet we would've picked up on the signal from his subcutaneous transmitter, just like Teyla."

"Unless it was somehow disabled when they..." Sheppard trailed off. "I mean, they stuck those things in our backs, right?"

The light in McKay's eyes dimmed. "Oh... I guess you're right..." He glanced to his device. "It's always possible that someone deactivated it intentionally."

"Rodney, these people have cattle prods and pitchforks – I doubt they even had a way of detecting something like that."

"True, but it just seems like – "

Teyla suddenly yelped, hunching over, hugging her stomach with her arm. Sheppard was immediately at her side. "Teyla?"

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply before straightening, looking a little pale. "I am fine..."

"No you're not," Sheppard squawked.

Teyla looked at him, shaking her head. "It is just an abdominal pain that will – " She cut herself off as she hissed out air as another cramp twisted within her. She pinched her lip between her teeth until the pain passed.

Sheppard watched her in concern. "Let me see your stomach."

Her eyes widened as she released her lip, looking suddenly panicked. "...Oh no..."

McKay ran to the ramp. "Hey – you with the medical kit – get back here!"

"That is not necessary, Rodney." Her voice was so authoritatively quiet that Sheppard got an adrenaline rush. She caught her breath after the last cramp then met Sheppard's concerned gaze, tears forming in her eyes. "I am bleeding."

"What, you mean like... ?"

She nodded, still hugging her abdomen as she gasped out a little sob.

Sheppard pulled away a bit, glancing around, looking suddenly awkward. "Uh... I don't know if we exactly have anything to deal with... that. What have you done every other month here?"

She shook her head. "It is not that." Another sob escaped as a cramp sent a throbbing ache throughout her pelvic region. "I had thought I was with child."

Sheppard looked to her in surprise as she took in a shaky breath, a tear slipping down her cheek. McKay glanced to Sheppard, his mouth forming a small "O," his eyes like an owl's. "You mean you're _pregnant_?"

Sheppard gave him a warning look.  
"What? That's what she just said!"

"I should not be bleeding," Teyla gasped out.

Sheppard kneeled beside her and waited until she straightened before tugging up her shirt enough to look at her abdomen. He sighed at the bruising he saw from the driver Teyla had fought and killed. "We need to get you to a doctor ASAP."

She shook her head miserably. "It cannot be stopped now."

Sheppard shifted to sit on the seat beside her, grabbing her hand.

Teyla let out another sob as McKay rummaged through his vest pockets, trying to find anything absorbent to help her. She stared ahead, gasping through her tears. "I need this child... I cannot loose it, too..."

McKay paused in his searching and Sheppard studied her profile, his face relaxing in realization. "...Ronon's baby?"

Teyla bit her lip, nodding. Sheppard looked to McKay who was rigid with shock. Sheppard blinked, trying to wrap his mind around this new information quickly enough to respond, but Teyla's broken whisper beat him to it as she slowly rested her head against his shoulder. "...I am loosing all that's left of him."

* * *

Curtis had seen the smoke at least a mile back and had smelled it for two. He dismounted as he entered the town, glancing around at the nervous shopkeepers and traders. He jerked his head towards an overweight man selling pelts and, from the colorful jars, what looked to be snake oil medicine. "You folks fighting a fire?"

"You might say that," responded the merchant as Curtis stepped over, his horse shaking her mane at a fly as she followed him.

"What's going on?"

"There was a slave revolt – happened in just a few hours. Guess it started at Phelp's Plantation and just started spreading. They've got it under control now."

Curtis blinked, glancing back to the brown smoke tainting the horizon. "Have they?"

The merchant nodded, following his gaze in the early morning light. "Damn fools just went wild, you know? Murderers – all of 'em. They killed the whole Phelps family then burned their house."

Curtis looked at the loamy street, pressing his lips together.

"Those slaves deserve what they got."

Curtis looked over once more. "And what was that?"

"Some of the drivers escaped and brought back reinforcements. Had to burn the devils out. Burned most of 'em alive. Killed the rest. A slave just ain't no good once it gets uppity, is how it is. Didn't matter if some of 'em were innocent – they'd seen too much. Drivers just killed them all."

Curtis attempted to calm his rapid breathing and took off his hat, raking a hand through his brown hair. "I was on my way to see Phelps this morning."

The merchant slowly nodded. "Well, he's dead now."

"Apparently so..." He turned his back on the man, closing his eyes and stretching his jaw in frustration, halting his thoughts when they conjured the image of Ronon's broken eyes as he was told that Teyla was dead. He turned back to face the merchant. "You're sure they killed all the slaves?"

"That's what I heard from Smith – he's one of the drivers that escaped."

Curtis swallowed hard. "Where is he now?"

The merchant jerked his head. "Tavern a block over."

"Thank you."

Curtis tugged his mare along behind him, striding towards the tavern, his chest heaving.

**_Please review!_**


	20. XX Stiffening

**XVV. Stiffening**

Teyla was resting her back against the side of the Jumper, her legs curled up around as she stared ahead. The painkiller had kicked in and her teammates had been able to find gauze to help absorb her bleeding, yet without the physical pain to distract her she was enveloped in the emptiness of her current situation, drawing little comfort from her friends. McKay and Sheppard were still busy handing out what supplies they could to the former slaves, organizing them into groups to be picked up and dropped off on another planet in subsequent return trips. Grit scraped against Teyla's incisors and she stopped biting her grimy nails.

She should be out there with her teammates, she knew. She should be out there with the people she led victoriously... but she could hardly find the courage to stand, for she knew that she was not only bleeding her own blood, but the last of Ronon's as well. The thought that she would now forever be alone, without any mark of Ronon's existence anywhere other than her heart was felt with every beat of her pulse. "I'm so sorry..." she whispered as she dropped her forehead onto her knees, closing her eyes. "...I have failed you."

* * *

Smith looked up, peering through his small crowd of morbidly curious tavern goers as Curtis strode into the room. The tall man scanned the crowd then his shoulders stiffened as his eyes settled upon the driver. Smith furrowed his brow, leaning back in his seat some while those around him chattered away about what the uprising might mean for the marketplace.

Curtis stalked over to the portly man, narrowing his blue gaze. "You the driver that escaped – Smith?"

Smith cleared his throat and took a sip of the drink he'd received on the house. "Yes indeed."

"You all retaliated and killed all the slaves?"

The crowd at his table quieted as they looked to Curtis. One woman narrowed her eyes at him.

Smith glanced to his fellows then back to Curtis. "You got a problem with that, mister?"

"That was good stock," Curtis spat. "And you wasted it."

"It's not like they were any of yours."

"I was gonna buy one from Phelps today."

The driver tilted his head to look at him better. "You knew Phelps?"

"Only briefly," Curtis replied.

"You buy often?"

Curtis blinked. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I was in charge of selling his slaves and I've never seen you before."

Curtis swallowed hard, his hand shifting to casually rest on the hilt of the knife in his belt. "Like I said, I only knew him briefly."

"Phelps personally said he'd sell to you?"

"Yes," Curtis replied, his hand tightening around the hilt.

Smith chuckled and took another sip of his drink. His voice was quiet. "You're a god-damned liar."

Curtis furrowed his brow.

"What you so upset for, anyhow?" Smith looked up at him again, his dark eyes twinkling from his slight intoxication. "Sounds like you're one of those abolitionist types."

Curtis let out a breath. "I'm upset that the slave I came all this way to buy is dead is all."

"Oh?" Smith took a last swig then wiped his mouth. "It's more'n that." He smacked his lips as he stood up. "Phelp's has been dead for two years. Only man left in that house was his bedridden father who couldn't talk. That makes you a liar, mister."

Curtis hesitated, wishing he'd never stepped into this tavern, cursing himself for letting his emotions cloud his judgment. His thumb slowly moved to unsnap the buckle holding his knife in place.

"I wonder if you even had a hand in the uprising." Several of the people around Smith had also risen, warily looking to Curtis.

"Don't be ridiculous," Curtis snapped.  
"Why the hell're you here?"

"Why are _you_? How is it that you're the only one who survived? You must've run off like a coward."

Smith clumsily punched Curtis in the face as the farmer yanked out his knife as he stumbled, whirling around to face the chubby driver. Smith kept his distance when he noticed Curtis' blade. Curtis wiped the blood off his lip, flicking his bangs out of his eyes as he straightened. Smith licked his lips again, the people around him pulling out their weapons – knives, a hatchet, a few prods. Smith smirked. "Hide all you want, Abolitionist, but there's no room for you around here. You're no better than those murdering slaves." He glanced to Curtis' knife. "By the looks of it you've probably killed plenty of innocent slave owners in your time, haven't you?"

Curtis took a few steps back, slowly sheathing his knife again. "I don't want any trouble. I'm only passing through anyhow."

Smith nodded. "I'll bet."

The small crowd began to relax as Curtis backed towards the door and several shadowed him out. Once at the doors, Curtis turned and strode to his mare, mounting and prodding her further into the town in the opposite direction of home, pretending he was leaving by the northern road. Smith and several others from the tavern stepped outside.

Smith spit onto the planks of the sidewalk then narrowed his eyes against the glare of the sun, watching Curtis leave.

* * *

Sheppard glanced out at the gathered slaves who were regrouping, salvaging what food stores they could from the smoldering rubble and passing them out. "We can only take about twenty at a time, but we're gonna do our best to get you all out of here as soon as possible. I've contacted my superiors and more ships are on the way."

Binti listened as she tended to a young man's burned side.

Sheppard bit his lip at the charred skin. "Our doctors are on their way, too. It may be a while before some of you are ready to go to the new home we've found for you."

"Sheppard," Binti softly said and the colonel looked over at her. She smiled a little. "Thank you."

Sheppard glanced around at the injured and malnourished people gathered nearby. "...It's the least I can do."

"If only we could do more." Sheppard, Binti and several others redirected their attention to Teyla as she stepped over.

Sheppard furrowed his brow and stepped to her side. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

Teyla ignored him and continued towards her comrades. "I know my limits, John."

The older man took a step away from her, knowing she was right. She held her head higher as she looked out at the freed slaves whose expectant gazes were fixed upon her. "You have done well." She smiled. "All of you. And I am so very proud. Yet our freedom comes at a great price. Let us take a moment of silence to mourn those of us who were lost... and also those who opposed us and died." The crowd bowed their heads, mimicking Teyla, and for several long moments all that could be heard was the wind and a few coughs. Teyla looked back up, swallowing hard, knowing that this freedom had cost her a great sacrifice – she had lost a part of her future.

"I, Binti Samale thank you, Teyla Emmagan. You are truly great." Binti bowed her head and raised her fist upwards. Within a heartbeat, hundreds of other heads were bowed and fists in the air as the other freed slaves said their personal thanks to Teyla. The daughter of Athos smiled, her eyes glittering with tears as she looked out over the hundreds of bowed heads. In that instant she knew that Ronon would be so proud... he would've accepted her sacrifice for the greater good of so many. The thought made her let out a shaky breath of release as a tear jetted down her cheek.

* * *

Bo was the first to see her father returning and grinned, hastily climbing down from her tree and racing across the meadow to Ronon and Brianna who were playing fetch with Sniffer. "Pa's back! Pa's back!"

Ronon felt like his face was going to split from his uncontrollable grin as Bo dashed over to him. He scooped the lass into his arms and tossed her in the air, making her laugh, before jogging over to the road. Brianna jogged along behind him, furrowing her brow when she also caught sight of their father. "...Pa's alone."

Ronon's face was already a myriad of worry and he set Bo down as her father neared. "Curtis!" he shouted, stepping out onto the road to meet him.

Curtis slowed his sweaty mare to a halt, glancing over his shoulder. Ronon looked behind the older man then back to his face. Curtis hesitantly locked eyes with him, panting slightly from his ride, the concern on Ronon's face locking his words in his throat. Ronon glanced behind Curtis again then looked back to him, his eyes suddenly timid. "...Where's Teyla?"

Curtis closed his mouth, taking a deep breath through his nose before he answered. "...I'm so sorry, Ronon."

Ronon immediately took a stumbling step backwards, his heart hammering so fiercely that his breath hitched.

"There was some sort of uprising on the plantation. The drivers killed all the slaves."

Brianna looked fearfully to Ronon as he stumbled backwards again, afraid he'd trip, never having seen him so clumsy. His voice was disbelievingly quiet then firm. "No... _no_."

Curtis shook his head, his eyes soft. "I'm so sorry..."

Ronon was also shaking his head. "It's not true..."

Bo took a step towards him but stopped herself, looking over her shoulder at her older sister for guidance.

"I didn't see the plantation myself but I spoke to one of the drivers," Curtis quietly continued. "The whole place went up in flames. I saw the smoke."

Ronon swallowed nothing, his mouth dry. He studied Curtis for several heartbeats the turned away, gazing out at the meadow before him as if the ground had suddenly fallen away except for where he was standing. He reached out an arm to steady himself against an oak, his shoulders sagging his head drooped. Bo and Brianna both tore their eyes away from him and to their father. He shook his head a little at them, silently telling them that there was nothing they could do.

Ronon pulled his head back up, his throat constricting so tightly that he could hardly breathe. He was shocked to realize that his eyes were dry... dry when all he wanted to do was scream his anguish and weep until he couldn't move. He took a few staggering steps away from the three.

"Ronon..." Curtis' quiet voice wafted to him and he paused, stiffening. "...I might be in some trouble."

_**Please review!**_


	21. XXI Charging

**XXI. Charging**

"You don't know for certain?" Liliana asked as she stuffed Sanura's blanket into the rucksack.

Curtis sighed and shook his head, speaking quickly as he packed spare food. "I took the most roundabout paths I could but I don't trust them. Everyone was extra tense because of the uprising."

"Maybe they won't come. Heavens know they have plenty else to trouble them."

"Still... better safe than sorry."

Both tied up the packs they were filling then set them by the back door. "Bo?" Liliana called as she stepped into the main room. "Isabeau?"

Brianna stuck her head out of her and her sister's shared room. "She's out with Ronon."

"Tell her to get back in here!" Curtis snapped.

"I did, Pa, but she was..."

She trailed off as Sniffer began barking outside.

"Isabeau!" Lilliana dashed to the door and yanked it open, hastily scanning the outside. The meadowgrass, tinged with gold, was softly swaying in the breeze. It would have been a lovely afternoon if not for the threat clinging to her heart. "Isabeau!"

Sniffer was standing on the road, barking and dancing in place. A few moments later Liliana spied Ronon hurrying towards the house from the forest, carrying Bo. Liliana reached out her arms for her daughter as Ronon neared and he handed her off as she spoke. "Mama we saw them – there were a whole bunch of them coming!"

Liliana set Bo down, her hands shaking as she locked eyes with Ronon. He was panting and curtly nodded. "Run. I'll hold them off. Just get out."

She shook her head. "Ronon – you can't."

"They wouldn't be here if it weren't for me, now get out!" He shoved her into the house and shut the door, grabbing a shovel as a weapon. Liliana and her girls grabbed their bags then made for the back door, catching Curtis' attention out back and he hurried them towards the barn.

Ronon's chest heaved as he stalked forward, stepping onto the road beside Sniffer who continued to sound the alarm. Five men on horseback were galloping down the road towards him, spurring their horses faster when they caught sight of him. Several shouted a raised their weapons yet Ronon did not flinch, raising his shovel.

Brianna caught sight of him on the road as she ran, holding Bo's hand. She could see the mounted men charging towards him and looked away, letting out a cry of fear before entering into the barn.

Ronon lifted his head, watching the pounding hooves of the horses as they neared, bringing the roar of thunder with them. Fifteen yards. Ten yards. Five yards. At the last moment he dropped his shovel and leapt at the oak beside the road, latching onto a rope. His bodyweight pulled against the braided twine, lowering him as he swung and the opposite end of the rope yanked up a net that spanned the width of the road. The horses yanked their heads back but it was too late – the startled animals rammed against the netting.

The force of their momentum yanked the rope back and Ronon hissed as his back was slammed against the trunk of the tree and his palms burned as the rope heated and tore at his flesh. He held on for as long as he could bear then let go, dropping onto the ground and rolling down the slight hillside as the suddenly slackened net tripped and tangled the legs of the horses. Mounts and riders smacked against each other and the ground in a flurry of shouts and panicked bellows.

Ronon climbed to his feet, taking a moment to assess the extent of the damage his trap had caused before rushing forward again, grabbing the shovel and taking it to the first man who recovered, knocking him upside the head.

Liliana and Sanura were on one horse and Bo and Brianna on another as the four females galloped out of the barn, heading for the cover of the woods. Curtis watched them go, his heart hammering in his throat, then grabbed a pitchfork and ran across the meadow to assist Ronon.

The Satedan was trying to get to their attackers while avoiding the flailing legs of the ensnared horses. One mare broke free and charged off into the meadow, dragging her screaming rider with her by his foot caught in the stirrup. Another of the horses recovered as Ronon tackled one of the men who struggled to his feet, punching him in the face before yelping as his side was cut open by a blade. The man utilized Ronon's distraction to shove him away then swiftly raised the knife again, bringing his arm down only to have it hit the handle of a pitchfork as Curtis intercepted the stab.

Ronon rolled away, staggering to his feet as one of the horses bolted past, knocking into Curtis' back, making him stumble. The other two riders had recovered and one rode in-between Ronon and the man with the knife, allowing him to get back to his feet.

"Get the hell off my land," Curtis snarled.

Smith looked down at him from his mount then smirked, lowering his prod Curtis' face. Ronon stiffened, holding a hand to the bleeding cut on his side, catching his breath as Curtis glared at Smith. Smith jerked his head at the other rider and the man dismounted, stepping over to the dying meadow grass and setting it on fire with his prod.

The veins in Curtis' neck began to show. "No!"

The rest of Curtis' family watched from the treeline. Bo had dismounted to grab Sniffer's collar when she approached. Liliana began to urge her girls to look away as soon as she saw Smith level the prod at her husband's face. Bo followed her gaze and shouted. "Pa!" Before the mounted Brianna or Liliana could stop her, Isabeau broke the cover of the trees, Sniffer at her heels, racing towards her father, only slowing once when she noticed the burning grass that had been blocked from view by the cabin.

Smith whipped his head around towards the trees when he heard Bo's shout and Ronon screamed and lunged, yanking Smith off his horse and slamming his fist into his face again and again as the last mounted man spurred his horse to a gallop, charging at Isabeau with a prod. "Isabeau!" Curtis bellowed, running towards his daughter only to be tackled by the man with the knife. Ronon leapt off of Smith and mounted the driver's horse, kicking the animal in the ribs as he charged past Curtis, locked in combat with the other man while Smith moaned, trying to see past the blood on his face.

Bo slowed when she saw the stranger charging at her and turned around, racing back towards the trees, but as the sounds of the horse's hooves got louder and louder she knew she wouldn't make it back before the rider caught up with her. The hoof sounds suddenly doubled and she screamed as an arm hooked around her waist and hoisted her up. She was pulled onto the saddle and as she got the wind beat out of her from the movement of the horse, she could see that the rider behind her was the strange man who'd been chasing her. She looked up at the man who had grabbed her and smiled as much as she could when she saw that it was Ronon.

Ronon halted his horse as soon as he was near to Liliana and Brianna then set Bo down. Liliana was giving him a wild, grateful look and Brianna noticed the blood staining the side of his shirt. "You're hurt!"

"Go!"

None of them had ever heard him snarl and Brianna hastily helped Bo back onto their horse. Ronon pulled his mount backwards, pivoting to face the perusing rider then suddenly yelped and arched his back as the other man charged past and struck him with his prod between the shoulder blades. Liliana shouted and turned on her horse, Brianna and Bo's horse already trotting further into the trees. Ronon whipped his head around to face his attacker then screamed as the tip of the prod connected with his side, shocking him so violently that he fell off his horse.

Liliana turned around in time to see him writhe on the forest floor as electric tendrils danced over his body. His attacker dismounted and strode over, unsheathing a knife. In the distance she could see Curtis riding over on one of their attacker's horses, but knew he'd get there too late. Ronon's body was shaking as he struggled to rise but his attacker kicked him in the side, knocking him over onto his back.

"Leave him alone!" Brianna shouted from several yards away as her mother struggled to unsheathe her own knife.

The man jabbed his knife at Ronon but the Satedan caught his arm and shoved against him, keeping the blade inches from his throat. The man bit his lip and slugged Ronon in the side of the face, attempting to distract him, and Ronon retaliated by kicking him in the stomach, knocking him away.

Liliana had hastily handed her mount's reins to her eldest daughter and now ran towards the two men, her blade drawn. Ronon shakily got to his feet as his attacker recovered and ran at him. Ronon screamed and charged towards him, grabbing his knife arm and bowling him over. The man yelped and landed flat on his back then yanked his blade at the only part of the Satedan that he could reach, slicing open his temple. Ronon gasped and jerked his head as his left eye suddenly filled with blood. His attacker shoved him to the side, laying the knife across his throat then let out a choking sound, his blade nicking Ronon's neck as he stiffened.

Ronon blinked enough to be able to see the man above him slowly lurching forward, blood trickling from his mouth, his eyes wide with surprise. He suddenly slumped on top of Ronon and the Satedan scrambled out from under him, glancing around to spy Liliana striding forward to yank her knife from the man's back. She then flipped him over onto his back, watching as his lips twitched, and dragged the blade across his throat, releasing a brief rapid of blood before the man went limp.

She dropped the knife, taking a few steps backwards as Curtis reached them, looking to them all with worry yet relief relaxed his brow when he could tell that none of his family were injured. "Lil!" he shouted when he caught sight of her staggering away from the bloodied body of a man.

Ronon was trying to catch his breath and studying Liliana in awed surprise. After a moment she looked to him, wiping a few wisps of hair off of her forehead with bloodied fingers, leaving a light stain. Ronon nodded his thanks and she returned the gesture, swallowing hard then jerking in surprise as Curtis' arms were suddenly around her in a desperate embrace.

The Satedan climbed to his feet, looking out at the dying meadow fire and the two horses meandering about, skittishly grazing. Smith was galloping away down the road, barely able to remain upright in the saddle. Curtis' hand was then on his shoulder and he looked over to the older man. The two locked gazes in a silent acknowledgement of each other's courage before Curtis stepped away to hug his girls.

Ronon leaned his forehead onto the tree he sagged against, jumping a little and hissing when his side wound was suddenly touched.

"Hold still," Liliana quipped as she lifted up his shirt to examine the slice. Shen then looked up to his face, cupping one of his cheeks as she examined the dripping cut on his temple. He studied her face as she examined him, noting the man's blood that adorned her brow. His voice was husky. "Liliana..."

Her eyes met his and he parted his lips to say "thank you" but before he could, she'd pulled him to her in a fierce hug. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back, feeling her heart hammering against his chest. "Why didn't you leave?"

"I wasn't going to leave either of you here," she quietly answered, tangling her fingers in his curls that had escaped their ponytail in all of the ruckus. "Thank the gods that I didn't."

He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh, knowing that he had been reckless with his life, finding it difficult to care when he knew that Teyla might be waiting for him in the afterlife. "...Thank you."

She merely gave him a small squeeze then pulled away, stepping over to her family as Ronon noticed that both Sanura and Isabeau were in tears. Brianna approached him with a timid expression, carrying her small medical kit. Ronon swallowed hard then smiled at her before a sob choked out of him at the sight of her and her sisters so fearful, but alive and well, the impact of what he'd almost just lost slamming into him. He fell onto his knees, holding his side, tears stinging his cut face. His uninjured side was slammed into by Bo as she clomped onto him and Brianna knelt beside him, hugging his arm and resting her head on his shoulder.

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	22. XXIII Opposing

**XXII. Opposing**

Bo was watching with interest as Liliana cleaned and dressed the wound on Ronon's side. She peered up at him. "That's gonna close all up?"

He smiled a little and nodded. "Yep. Won't even know it was there."

"Will you have a scar?"

Ronon looked down at the injury. "I might, but your momma's a good healer, so probably not."

Liliana sighed, grabbing a bandage to wind around his middle. She glanced over at Curtis as she did so. He was peering out the window of the cabin, watching the road. Ronon had warned them that Smith had escaped and would more than likely be back. Curtis looked over his shoulder at the three when he noticed their silence. "You about done, Lil?"

"Yes."

Brianna was playing dollies with Sanura in the corner, trying to keep her baby sister occupied. "Where're we gonna go, momma? They'll find us no matter what."

"As far away as we can for right now."

Ronon looked down at her: he'd never heard her voice so emotionless. He kept his voice low. "After you leave, I'll take the horses left by those men and head off north. That'll throw them off your trail."

Liliana cinched his bandage tight and straightened, meeting his gaze. "Ronon, I am _not_ leaving you behind. So forget it."

"You won't be. I'll find you."

"Ronon," Curtis said, pivoting to look at him. "You'd have no idea where you're going."

"It doesn't matter. I'm used to it."

Liliana sighed and exchanged a look with Curtis, silently reminding him that, as they'd witnessed that afternoon, there was much more to the former Runner than the playful gentleness they had come to love.

"When I can, I'll... I'll make sure they never bother you again." Liliana looked back to him at his dark tone. "Then I... I need to visit the plantation, to see for myself. Maybe even bury her..." He looked away, his voice quieting for a moment before he looked back to Curtis. "Then I'll find you."

The older man was slowly shaking his head. "We can't ask that of you, Ronon."

"You're not. I owe you all so much... this is the least I can do."

"No, it's not," Liliana interrupted. "You don't owe us anything. Now stop scheming and grab what you need to. You're coming with us."

Curtis cocked his head at her. "Lil..."

Liliana froze, surprised that her husband sounded argumentative, and turned around to face him, a quiet rage flaring in her blue eyes. "I will _not_ abandon him here to save our own lives!"

Ronon and Curtis studied her in surprise. The three girls had fallen silent long ago and watched with tense gazes.

"Look at what's already happened!" She gestured to the wounds on the Satedan. "And I have killed..." She took a moment to rein in her voice, swallowing hard. "Enough of this. It's risking too much." She looked to Ronon. "You're coming with us, Ronon, and that's final."

She bristled at the respectful disobedience in Ronon's eyes. "...You're not my mother."

"It's a good plan, Lil."

Liliana glared at Curtis. "Stop encouraging him!"

"He came up with it on his own!"

"The longer we stay here and argue, the closer those murderers get!" The couple jumped at the boom of Ronon's shout. His chest heaved as he furrowed his brow at them. "Now get your stuff and _get out_. We stick to the plan."

"It's a _stupid_ plan!" Liliana shouted as she took a step towards him.

"No it isn't."

"You're not thinking clearly, Ronon – you're upset because of Teyla and now you're being reckless with your life and I_ won't_ have it."

He clenched his jaw, breathing through his nose. "That's not for you to say."

"How _dare_ you. I _love_ you, Ronon. And I am _not_ leaving you behind with those men so if you think you're staying then I am, too."

"Liliana," Curtis interjected. He jerked his head towards their daughters who all looked timid. Liliana's shoulders immediately slumped.

Briana looked close to tears. "I don't want you to die, Ronon."

Bo whipped her head around to her older sister. "He's gonna _die_?!"

"Those men want to kill him."

Sanura began to wail.

"I don't want you to die, Ronon!" Isabeau was beginning to cry now, too. Curtis looked from his lamenting daughters to his wife and Ronon.

The Satedan shifted his weight guiltily, his voice quiet. "I'm not gonna die, Bo."

The nine-year-old continued to cry.

"...I mean... I am someday, but hopefully not soon..."

"Damn straight it won't be soon." Liliana gave him a "don't you say another word" look then crossed over to her girls to hold Sanura. "Now get the horses ready, Ronon. You're coming with us."

Ronon looked as if he wanted to shout at her and glanced to Curtis. The older man sighed then gave him a curt nod. He thought he could hear a growl as the Satedan stalked out of the room.

* * *

Several Jumpers formed a circle on the ground as Marines finished establishing a perimeter around the plantation, securing the area while the hundreds of slaves were tended to by medics and the most severely injured boarded onto the small ships. Slaves from other plantations kept turning up in small, huddled groups, having got word about the uprising and come to join, cautiously hopeful at discovering that there was now a way out of their bondage; forever.

Many wished to see the woman who had brought freedom to their soil, but at the moment, she was not there. Teyla had returned to Atlantis with the rest of her team, after much pressuring on Sheppard's part and under the condition that she be allowed to return the next day. Sheppard had agreed, happy to have at least assured that his teammate would be seen by a doctor and get a few proper meals before resuming her adopted duties as the leader of a ragtag army.

McKay had immediately returned to his quarters, finding it hard to breathe once he began walking through Atlantis with the knowledge that Ronon would never be home again. His throat tightened as he sank onto his bed, not bothering to turn on the lights, pain from his heart flooding his veins as memories of the Satedan whispered to his mind.

Guilt plagued his stomach, making it churn cold with anxiety, for he and Ronon had never been as close as they could have been. They'd saved each other's lives countless times, but Rodney had always kept his distance from the warrior, as the warrior had him, for they were two very different people, and what was the use of expending so much energy to try to understand the other? At least that had been his thinking until now... now when he realized that he'd been the one not making the effort.

In his clumsy way, Ronon had tried to bridge the gap between them. He'd tried to teach Rodney how to fight to defend himself. He'd shared his rare humor. He'd given full, impulsive hugs. Rodney held his hands to his face when he remembered how the tall Satedan's frame had occasionally filled the doorway to his lab as Ronon would wander in. At first he was curious about the instruments, asking with veiled interest what they did, and Rodney knew he'd been gruff and short-tempered, trying to focus on whatever he was working on. He used to be relieved when Ronon would get the message and leave him to his work.

Now he wished he could explain everything to the Satedan, no matter how bored Ronon would be. He wished he'd said yes more often when the younger man had asked him if he wanted to go eat. Ronon had realized that food was their common ground. Everyone had to eat, and Ronon and McKay often needed to more frequently than others given Rodney's high metabolism hypoglycemia and Ronon's muscles, burning up energy even when he slept. Yet Rodney hadn't acknowledged how a simple meal together enforced friendship with its primal bond.

He'd prided himself in his differences from the Satedan, on his quick mind and knowledge of science. He sometimes admitted to himself that Ronon was almost as smart as he was, only in a more subtle way, and his wit had been suppressed in order to survive a life that McKay could hardly consider. And yet he'd never let him know that he didn't really mean all of the remarks he'd made about Ronon's "stupidity," and the knowledge gutted him. He wished he could've taken Ronon's place on that horrible plantation and have died instead.

Rodney choked out a sob, whispering "I'm so sorry, Ronon..." tugging at his hair with self-loathing fingers as he recalled a lunchtime conversation with Sheppard during quieter times.

"Why don't you hit the gym with Ronon? It'd do you some good and he'd probably enjoy the company," Sheppard had said.

"Oh please. He's going boxing. Boxing means you have time to talk. We have nothing to talk about."

"You could tell him about your cat."

"Why? He'd probably want to eat it." Sheppard had given him a patronizing look. "Oh don't act like it isn't true."

"You know F. Scott Fitzgerald once said 'The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in the mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.'"

"What the hell does American literature have to do with a punching bag?"

"Just think about it, Rodney."

"Oh. I get it. You're insulting me. I'm not a genius just because I'm not all buddy buddy with Ronon."

"I'm just saying it's more worthwhile get to know someone who's different from you, no matter who you are."

Rodney let out a shuddering breath. Now he'd never have that opportunity, just like he'd never get the chance to hug Carson again. Suddenly he was vaguely comforted by the knowledge that if Ronon was now wherever Carson was, he'd be okay. He let out a shaky sigh, straightening to look out his window at the moonlit ocean. The light was shimmering off the waves, looking silver. He wiped at his cheeks. Then suddenly he had an idea.

* * *

Brianna had never heard her father sound so frightened as he was when he'd yanked his head away from the window. It was already dark and Ronon had been finishing readying the horses at the back when they'd all heard shouts. Several men returned and found Ronon in the barn. "We can't get out – they've got the place surrounded," Curtis hissed to Liliana.

"The girls can slip out the – "

There was a knock at the door. Curtis and Liliana held each other's gaze for a long moment before he muttered for her to keep the girls in the kitchen by the cupboards, away from the windows. The floorboards creaked as Curtis walked to the door, every muscle tense, his mind racing to try to fathom why this propriety was being shown. He glanced out the window and was further puzzled to see that the men were unarmed. He opened the door a crack, looking out. "Yes?"

The man standing before him gray and weatherworn. He held out a piece of paper. "You Curtis Espen?"

He cleared his throat. "I might be."

"I'm Lee Heinz. I've been made the protectorate of the territory on account of the revolts."

Curtis narrowed his eyes at him, still not opening the door further. Liliana listened intently from the kitchen.

"A man run into town today, his eyes almost swollen shut. He said you and your kin were Abolitionists and that you'd ambushed him."

Curtis opened the door a little wider, straightening. "That's not true."

"Says you killed his men." He jerked his head towards the barn. "You've got three of their horses in there."

"Is that Gordon?" Liliana called cheerily as she stepped into the room, wiping flour from her hands. She paused in mock-surprise as she noticed Lee. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Curtis was trying not to stare at her. Lee looked her up and down, noting her coloring. "That your wife?"

"Yes."

"What's going on?" Liliana feigned ignorance, furrowing her brow.

Lee ignored her. "Smith was the man's name. He was a driver at Phelp's place 'till all hell broke loose. He said the man who attacked him was big, brown hair and tan skin." He furrowed his brow at Curtis and Liliana then looked over his shoulder and nodded at one of his men, who shoved Ronon into the lantern light. The Satedan stumbled, looking dazed and docile from having been shocked into submission by a prod.

Liliana grabbed Curtis' hand as she stepped to stand beside him, keeping him still as her nostrils flared. "What have you done to our man? You'll pay for that!"

Lee narrowed his eyes then looked to Ronon. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'd assumed he was your son causing all the trouble but now that I've seen you two..."

"So if he were my son you would've seen fit to half-torture him half to death?"

"He murdered four men and nearly killed another."

"Franklin," Liliana scolded, glaring at Ronon. Ronon blinked then tried to adopt the mannerisms of a Franklin. "You've gone and done it this time."

Curtis grabbed a riding crop from a hook by the door and stepped forward. "Boy, you'll be lucky if you survive this."

"Now just hold on a minute," Lee said, holding out a hand to stop Curtis. "Your slave's a murderer."

"We sent him out to buy horses with the money from the last crop," Liliana quickly fibbed. "He came home bleeding and said he'd gotten into trouble with some townfolk passing by, seeing as everyone's so jumpy with the revolt and all."

"Franklin, I'm gonna lick you till the sun come up, you hear me?" Curtis shouted at Ronon, who looked to the ground, adopting the submission that he'd seen in many other slaves. "I swear to you, Mister, I had no idea he'd done this. He's a damn good liar is what he is. Always trying to get out of trouble. Just look as back. He's a trouble-maker."

The man closest to Ronon yanked up his shirt, revealing the scars from his whipping. Lee studied them in the dim light then looked back to Curtis. "And how do I know he's not a runaway that you all are helping? That you helped him kill those men?"

"Guess you don't," Curtis quipped.

"Master," Ronon mumbled, looking at the ground. "Don't let them kill me..."

"You shut up, boy!" Curtis lunged past Lee and off the steps, kicking Ronon in the stomach. "You've cost us enough trouble already!" He kicked him again and Ronon coughed, crawling away before one of the men stopped him and another shoved Curtis back.

Liliana swallowed bile down her throat and fought her jaw from quivering.

When Ronon got to his feet, Curtis yanked free of the man restraining him and punched him in the face, splitting his lip. Liliana began to cry out and but tried to disguise it with a cough as Curtis was restrained again.

"All right, just... hold your horses," Lee cautioned, seeming somewhat satisfied that Curtis wasn't faking. Ronon was looking to the ground, his brow furrowed in pain as his lip already began to swell, blood trickling down his chin. Curtis swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away from the damage he'd done. Lee removed his hat and raked a hand through his grizzled hair, pivoting to look about at what he could see of their property. He clicked his tongue, thinking. "Tell you what," he said, turning back to face Curtis and Liliana. "You folks are gonna have to pay a fine – one thousand for each man that slave of yours killed. Those men had families, some of 'em." He pulled a prod out of his belt. "And we'll kill the trouble-maker and call it even."

Liliana took a step forward. "Don't you _touch_ him." Curtis looked to her and she glared. "I know the laws. That slave is _my_ property. You have no right to decide _anything_ about him."

"We can't let you keep a murdering slave, Ma'am," Lee replied, striding over to Ronon who was tensing.

"We need him, Mister," Curtis said. "The harvest is just around the corner. At least let us keep him until we can afford another. Then you can come see the body."

Lee halted, studying him.

"I've got three little girls," Liliana quietly added. "How're we gonna feed them without the help?"

Lee looked back to Liliana. Briana and Bo had been restraining Sanura but at a look from their mother, they let the toddler go and joined her at the doorway. Liliana picked up Sanura and Bo and Bri stayed close to her side.

Lee sighed then looked to Ronon, sizing him up. "Alright then. I know a feller who likes the uppity types like him." He poked Ronon with his inactive prod. "And this one comes from good stock. He'd probably give you six thousand for him."

"We're not interested in selling, Mister," Curtis said.

"You don't have a choice," Lee hardened his voice as he looked away from Ronon and over to Curtis. "I'll sell him tomorrow, take out what you owe for the fine, plus a commission, then you can have the rest to buy another slave. And where he's going," he paused to gesture to Ronon, "he won't be able to do any harm. That's more than fair."

Curtis worked his jaw for a moment then looked up to Liliana on the porch. Her eyes were wide and he knew she was searching for a way to wiggle out of this just as much as he was, but they'd already played all their cards. Curtis looked back to Lee, bowing his head before looking up with a fake smile. "I could tell you were a good man from the moment I laid eyes on you."

Lee chuckled, a raspy laugh, lungs full of tobacco grit. Curtis stepped forward to shake his hand as the man holding Ronon shifted to bind his wrists. Ronon's heart was hammering wildly and he didn't dare look up at his adopted family. Bo buried her head in Liliana's pant leg, muffling her tears. Ronon couldn't help but look up at her quiet wail and Brianna's lip-quivering visage constricted his throat.

His eyes shifted to look at Liliana, and her stoic face nearly cracked. His gaze was torn away from hers when he was roughly jerked towards the road and out of the lantern light. Liliana stepped back inside with the girls while Lee had Curtis sign some documents. The men had Ronon mount one of the allegedly stolen horses and tied its reins to one of their saddle horns. Once Lee was mounted, the entourage left, heading down the road.

Curtis stepped back inside, slowly shutting the door behind him. He met Liliana's gaze, his eyes beginning to shimmer with tears, then caught her as she let out a gasping sob and hugged him.

_**Please review!**_


	23. XXIII Spilling

**XXIII. Spilling**

Ronon paced in his cell, wishing he'd attempted escape while he was still out in the open, but he'd feared that any disobedience on his part would end up punishing Liliana, Curtis and their children. The birds had begun to chirp several hours ago and the dawnlight spilled in through the small window. Ronon halted inside the small square of warmth from the sun, studying the iron shackles that bound his wrists. Heinz's words echoed to him through memory, sending a chill down his spine. "Where he's going, he won't be able to do any harm..." That meant somewhere more secure than a plantation. What else could these people possibly use slaves for? Mining?

He sighed and sat down on the rough-hewn bench that lined a wall of the cell, disturbed by his own lack of anxiety over his predicament. He had no idea where he was going or what was going to happen to him, but his heart was so tired that he couldn't find it in him to care more than a dull, fleeting pump of anxiety in his blood every now and then. The Espens were safe, as far as he knew. He'd done his part to protect the family that had given him so much... that had restored his lost sense of dignity and trust. Knowing that they would be safe, and that Teyla was no longer alive to be harmed, that his friends in Atlantis had more than likely moved on and were prospering, gave him a sense of peace. No matter what darkness was looming before him, he could face it unflinchingly, with welcome, even, for he had only himself to loose, and that seemed a small sacrifice.

* * *

Teyla stepped out onto the loam, her wounds cleaned and dressed, her body washed and rested, her stomach fed, feeling as if her feet didn't bear as much weight as they did only a day ago. Her loose locks caught in the breeze, sending a tickling warmth against her scalp and down her neck, reminding her of breathing, of the warm sun, of the laugh of a child. She looked out over at the remaining slaves in their makeshift shantytowns, eating their rations, caring for their children, braiding each other's hair.

Several looked up as she stepped over to them, the slits in her long tunic lifting in the breeze as she strode past and a quiet murmur followed her. Binti rose from her fire, grinning. She ran and hugged the Athosian who laughed, spinning with her friend. "I did not think such a bright morning would ever come," Binti almost sang. "More arrive every hour. They tell of other battles – other revolutions. Freedom is being sung from the very skies, Teyla!"

Teyla chuckled as a rush of excitement bubbled up in her breast at knowing that she had helped to improve the lives of so many who had been mired in wickedness and the expanding excess of an elite few. As she turned to look at Sheppard greeting a slave family, introducing himself and pointing out the Jumper they were to board, she knew that she'd made all the right decisions in her life. Leaving her own people for Atlantis had been like leaving behind a part of her heart, and she'd often struggled with the worry that she'd betrayed her own kin. Yet now she could count her blessings and know that for all the pain, for all the agony she had endured, she had done a good thing. She had saved hundreds, possibly thousands. She had given them hope. And she had loved and been loved, in the most desperate, life-affirming passion that she'd ever felt.

Her heart still stuttered and her spirit ached at the memory of Ronon, at the frustration of his death, at her own helplessness to save him. But she couldn't help but feel as if the pain had etched itself into her spine and shoulder blades, and that she now stood a little taller, a little wiser for the gift of his trust, his experience, and his loss. She would carry on for him, and she would destroy the hate and fear and death of the place his ghost would haunt. She would bury the legacy of rape and torture, neglect and elitism. She would shelter the flower in her heart that bore his breath.

"Teyla."

She turned to look to John.

He smiled. "Someone wants to meet you."

Teyla grinned at the couple beside him, briskly stepping over to the man and pregnant woman. Both shared a look then smiled at her. "You are Teyla Freedombringer?" the man asked.

The Athosian furrowed her brow a little at the title but bowed her head. "I am Teyla Emmagan, and yes, I did do what I could to help these people."

The woman studied her with eyes shimmering with pride. "A woman. A great woman."

Teyla tried not to advert her gaze, smiling crookedly as her cheeks flushed.

"I will have a daughter," the woman continued. "And she will be named after you, Teyla, whose spirit is more beautiful than the stars." The woman bowed and kissed one of Teyla's hands then the man mimicked her.

Teyla's lips fumbled, searching for words, until the woman turned her shimmering eyes to hers once more, and Teyla leaned forward to hug her. The baby kicked and Teyla and the woman laughed. "Please," Teyla said, gesturing to one of the Jumpers. "Make yourself comfortable. The first trip will be leaving shortly."

"Thank you, Teyla Freedombringer." The woman and man bowed to her before heading over to the Jumper Teyla had pointed out.

Sheppard's eyes shone with pride as he stepped up to Teyla. She shared a smile with him then turned as her name was called again and another small group of shy, freed slaves stepped forward.

* * *

Ronon glared at the man from behind his bars. The man was looking him up and down, as if he were a piece of meat in a butcher's shop. "How much they want?"

"Six thousand," Heinz responded.

"Fair enough..." The man trailed off, stroking his dark goatee. He looked back to Heinz. "How many you say he killed?"

"Four. The other's still in the hospital. His master says he's a trouble maker. He's got layers of scars on his back."

The other man looked at Ronon again, stepping forward, the ebony skin of his sharp cheekbones highlighted by the morning light. Ronon blinked when he realized that he wasn't even toe to toe with this man yet almost had to look up to meet his gaze. "I'll take him."

"Excellent."

"What is he called?"

"Uh..." Heinz consulted his paperwork. "Franklin."

The man furrowed his brow, eying Ronon. "Franklin?"

Ronon sighed, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Well, Franklin," the man said as he stepped closer. "I am Rashid and you are mine. You will obey me, or suffer the consequences. Simple enough, no?"

Ronon reluctantly met his gaze, knowing he wasn't supposed to speak back.

"Good." Rashid turned to exit. "Take him to my transport. I have other potential sales to inspect."

Heinz grunted as Rashid left then nodded to his deputies. Both stepped forward and unlocked Ronon's cell, activating their prods.

* * *

"There!" Rodney's eyes lit up as he straightened, holding the device out in front of him. "I've got it!"

Sheppard glanced over from where he was keeping watch as the slaves continued to load into the Jumpers, many waiting for the subsequent trips. "You ought to stop playing chess and help me."

"Like you're even doing anything."

"I'm looking pretty."

McKay scoffed and stepped out of the Jumper.

"Speaking of which, you look like you could use some beauty rest," Sheppard remarked, noting the puffiness around McKay's eyes.

"Mmm, I couldn't sleep last night. I was trying to figure out a way to boost the signal of a subcutaneous transmitter. Obviously Ronon's was damaged but these things never really turn off unless they're deactivated. If it was damaged it'd just be emitting a very low signal."

Sheppard had his brow furrowed. "What's the point?"

"Well, you know..." McKay's eyes were wide, his voice quiet. "The least we can do is properly bury his body."

Sheppard took a deep breath, leaning back a little, fighting the urge to scold Rodney, not wanting to be anywhere near the several-month-decomposed corpse of his brother-in-arms.

"Look, see?" McKay pointed out the faint signal on his handheld device. "That's him."

Sheppard glanced to the screen and nodded before looking away. "Nearby?"

"Er... relatively."

"Fine. We'll look for him when we're done here."

"I mean, we could have someone else look for him. Someone who didn't know him..." He trailed off as Teyla approached.

Sheppard gave him a look that said "good move" before he smiled at her. "Everything going okay?"

She returned the smile. "Yes, thank you. All is well." She looked back at the mobilizing people and brushed some hair off her face.

Sheppard, sighed, wondering how to bring up to her that they were going to hunt for Ronon's body, glancing to the screen Rodney was letting hang by his side as he craned his neck to see a tray of food one of the Marines was carrying past. "...Rodney..." McKay looked over at the colonel's startled tone. "...It's _moving_."

"What?" Rodney furrowed his brow then followed his gaze. He then squawked and dropped it.

Teyla took a step back, looking bewilderedly at the two wide-eyed men. "What is it?"

Both comically stared at the device in the dirt then looked to each other at the same time.

"It was – " McKay began.

"I saw it," Sheppard added.

"You don't think he's?"

"Oh," Sheppard winced. "Something might've eaten – "

"Then it would be in the feces, it wouldn't be moving."

Teyla shook her head a little, thoroughly baffled. "I am sorry but... perhaps I do not want to hear the rest of this conversation..." She began to turn away when Sheppard laughed.

"Teyla..." He was grinning when she looked back at him and McKay looked equally as giddy. "That dot is Ronon."

A line formed between her brows and she felt the breath leave her lungs.

Sheppard swallowed before continuing, his eyes alight. "He might still be alive."

The wind picked up, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she studied him, a chill suddenly spilling into her blood.

* * *

Ronon shifted, trying to get comfortable in the bouncing back of the carriage, glancing to the other men who shared the transport with him. He couldn't help but recall a similar instance in a carriage such as this, when his side also hurt, and he was with Teyla. He wrinkled his nose when the stench coming from one of the men with him reminded him that he wasn't alone in his discomfort. He sighed and shifted again, the wound on his side heating from being bumped and chafed.

He knew that hours had passed by the time they ground to a halt and he stretched his legs before trying to stand. One man had attempted to urinate outside the cart but was jostled, and now Ronon stank like his urine. The scent annoyed him but little more. Rashid's slaves unloaded the new stock then escorted them into holding cells where their shackles were cut. Ronon glanced to the other man who shared his cell. He was shorter than the Satedan, yet powerfully built. Everyone here was.

"I hope you've had enough rest on your journey here," Rashid announced as he strolled the aisle of the cells. "Because it may be the last you ever have." He nodded to his slaves who began to patrol the cells, marking down information about the newly arrived men. "Tonight... many of you will die."

Rashid strolled from the room, flicking his flail at the flies that incessantly buzzed. Ronon looked to the man sharing his cell. The man looked back, sizing him up, then moved to sit down in the corner. Ronon leaned forward to rest his forehead against the bars, his empty stomach growling, the lip that Curtis had split throbbing, the warmth of Bo's little body, and the sweetness of Liliana's cornbread seemingly belonging to a different world.

**_Please review!_**


	24. XXIV Chanting

**XXIV. Chanting**

Ronon ducked and stumbled as the club landed a glancing blow on his back. He felt some of the air cough out of his lungs and pivoted, his ankle burning as he spun about to block the next blow with the hilt of the mace he'd been given. The man he was fighting was large and had energy to spare in his flabby sides as he screamed and charged at the Satedan. Ronon hastily backed up, nearly tripping over the corpse of one of the men who'd already been killed.

For a moment it looked as if he were about to fall and the crowd watching in the stands cheered and clapped, then their noise died out as he recovered his footing and spun around backwards, catching his attacker off guard and landing the spiked ball at the end of the mace into the side of his ribcage. The man grunted as his pale flesh flushed crimson, beginning to bleed from the blow. Ronon didn't hesitate and struck again, smashing his weapon into the man's other side as the crowd roared in approval.

His opponent staggered backwards a few steps, coughing out wheezing gasps as he attempted to breathe despite his freshly-broken ribs. Ronon took a few steps backwards, straightening and licking his lips as he caught his breath, tasting iron as the re-opened wound on his lip began to bleed again from an earlier blow to his jaw from the man who now lay dead. Two more bodies scattered the arena, staining the sand of the pit with the dark colors of their blood, etching out grotesque snow angels as they fell into death throes.

Ronon's attacker continued to try to catch his breath, studying Ronon with sheer instinct in his eyes, making their pale blue depths look wild. He screamed and ran at the Satedan. Ronon knew a clumsy charge when he saw one and calmly ducked as the large man swung. He casually stepped to the side and tripped his opponent, making the crowd roar with laughter. The pale man skidded against the sand, his injured ribs digging further into his organs, causing him to cough up blood. He shakily attempted to rise then groaned, rolling over onto his side before flopping onto his back, his breath coming in wheezing screeches as a lung collapsed.

Ronon straightened.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" the arena chanted, stomping their feet in deafening crescendo, like the war drums of a race of giants.

Ronon glanced to their faces, mostly men of all ages and social classes then looked about at the bodies strewn on the floor. He'd killed two of them. Now they wanted him to kill a third. He stepped over to the wheezing man who looked up at him with fear. Ronon's stomach constricted as he locked eyes with his victim. He was unarmed and weak. He'd done nothing more to deserve a death in the arena than Ronon had. As he coughed again, spilling out more blood, Ronon felt his shoulders tense. There was no saving this man now anyway.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" the crowd continued to pound out.

Ronon swallowed, looking out at them again, and a few cheered when he glanced their way, is if delightedly surprised to recognize that he had a will of his own. The Satedan looked to Rashid who was picking pits out of a fruit that he was eating, seated in his spectator's box away from the rest of the crowd. Rashid glanced to him then did a double-take when he noticed the Satedan staring.

The crowd continued to chant. Ronon's blood was rushing past his ears in a roar louder than their united voices. Rashid shrugged a little, holding out his hands as if to say "what can you do?" then chuckled as he took a bite of his fruit. Ronon slightly sneered and looked back down to his dying opponent. He raised his mace, reminding himself that a quick death was better than prolonged suffering. But the man was staring at him. Ronon froze with the mace above his head while the crowed cheered.

"...This man," he shouted, causing only the nearest section of the crowd to quiet enough to hear him, "dies with honor!"

Those who had quieted roared again as he adjusted his shoulders. His victim gave him a curt nod as he did so, and Ronon only hesitated long enough to nod back before bringing down the ball of the mace as hard as he could, slamming it into the side of the fallen man's skull, shattering bone and brain.

The roar of the crowd made his vision blur as he dropped the mace and stepped away from the body, clawing at the flecks of blood that suddenly freckled his torso, staining his shirt that was already stained by sweat and tears, waste and despair. He yanked it off over his head, causing several in the crowd to laugh and whoop when he threw it onto the ground, as if it were a possessed thing.

The iron gates on the edge of the arena grated open and he purposefully strode towards them as the crowd began to chant "More! More! More! More!" They hissed and booed when Rashid finally spoke from his box, saying that they were finished for the night, but to come see the Satedan fight again in two day's time.

As the gates creaked shut, Ronon thought he could hear "Sate-dan! Sate-dan! Sate-dan!" being chanted above the screaming of his blood.

Rashid laughed, clapping.

* * *

McKay attempted to ignore the stares he was getting from the local who noticed his odd dress as he dashed through the streets, following Teyla. "Teyla!" The Athosian had taken off as soon as Sheppard lifted off in the Jumper with his load of freed slaves, promising to return as soon as he could so that the three could hunt down the signal supposedly coming from Ronon. Apparently Teyla couldn't wait that long, McKay griped in his mind, praying that none of the people in this town would recognize Teyla as a former slave.

The Athosian stepped up to the first townsperson she saw with a horse. "I require your mount!"

The man blinked at her with surprise, taking in her foreign clothing and the odd man chasing after her. "...What?"

Teyla frowned. "I will return it, I assure you."

"Teyla!" McKay shouted as he caught up with her, panting.

Teyla gave him a slightly annoyed look. "You are slowing me down, Rodney!"

McKay looked shocked, trying to catch his breath, doubled over. "Are you _kidding_ me?! I just ran after you for like, miles!"

Teyla let out a frustrated sigh when she noticed that the man with the horse had slipped away as she was scolding her teammate.

"Why couldn't you just wait for Sheppard?!"

"You do not understand."

"Oh, I understand perfectly. You're crazy!"

Teyla narrowed her eyes at him then marched away, heading for the road that led out of the town.

McKay gaped in shock. "Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me!"

Teyla didn't slow her stride.

"Teyla!" McKay squeaked out and stumbled after her.

Curtis turned stopped securing the bales of hay onto the back of his wagon and turned his head to look as Rodney shouted Teyla's name. His lips parted and he double-checked to make sure that Sam the mule was still tied up then jogged out from behind the feed store.

Teyla was still striding towards the road, though McKay had caught up. She refused to look at him. "If you truly believe I am crazy, Rodney, then please, do _not_ follow me any longer."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" the scientist panted. "I didn't mean it – will you please just _stop_?" He grabbed her arm and she spun about to face him, glaring. McKay glared back. "Sheppard will probably be here any minute!"

"You do not understand!"

"What don't I understand? That you're anxious to see him? That you miss him? Well I do, too!"

"No, Rodney! You cannot possibly know what it has been like! He has been alive all this time without me... he would have come back if he could so something must be wrong. Perhaps he is injured."

"Which is _why_ we're going to _look_ for him!"

Teyla continued to glare then her face softened, looking away. "...I am sorry."

McKay let go of her arm and sighed. "I am, too..."

"I know I am not usually... but I see now that I am behaving..." She swallowed hard and looked him in the eye, unsure if he could understand the hurricane of emotions bombarding her breast, terrifying her, afraid to believe until she was certain. "This could be another lie... and I cannot loose him again."

McKay studied her for a moment then nodded.

"Teyla?" a voice called and the Athosian stiffened as she and Rodney turned to face a tall, mustached man wearing a riding hat as he cautiously approached. McKay frowned at the way the man's eyes studied Teyla and he took a step in front of her. "I'm Curtis... Curtis Espen." He held out a hand and Teyla glanced at it yet made no move to shake it. Curtis cleared his throat a little, taking off his hat. "...Do you know a young man by the name of Ronon Dex?"

Teyla's expression immediately relaxed as her eyes widened and she took a step towards the man. "Where is he?"

Curtis shook his head a little, regret coloring his features. "I don't know for certain... I've been trying to find out. My family and I took him in a while back and he's lived with us ever since. A few nights ago he was taken by a slave trader."

If Teyla had fur, it would be bristling, and Curtis was impressed by just how accurate Ronon's description of her fire and demeanor were.

"What? What do you mean? He's on another plantation?" McKay asked.

Curtis shook his head. "I doubt it. He sacrificed himself to save me and my wife and girls."

Teyla studied him, relieved to know that Ronon had been with such a kind face for so long.

Curtis had his brow furrowed. "We heard that all the slaves in the revolt were killed."

Teyla shook her head, looking just as confused. "We lost some, yes, however the majority survived."

Curtis hissed and slapped his pant leg with his hat.

Teyla's eyes widened with understanding. "...Ronon believes I am dead."

Curtis looked back to her, his eyes speaking for him.

Teyla swallowed, looking away. She blocked out McKay and Curtis' voices as Rodney stepped over to explain his handheld tracking device to Curtis, her mind racing and her heart hammering. Ronon was alive. This man had seen him, spoken to him, touched him. And now he was lost, believing her to be dead... she searched the skies for the Jumper, every muscle screaming to find the Satedan as quickly as possible.

* * *

Ronon quickly glanced around his cell as he returned. His cellmate was gone and he could hear the distant sounds of another fight in another arena. He sank down onto the bench, feeling aching and old, his wounds all stinging and throbbing from being freshly washed. After the fight he had been allowed to bathe and given fresh clothing – his rewards for survival. The slave locked the cell door shut and nodded at him before stepping away. As Ronon watched him go, he noticed that nearly half the cells were empty, and his stomach churned with ice water, knowing that most would never return.

He leaned his back against the stone wall and drew his legs up to his chest, resting his cheek on his knees and conserving his heat, closing his eyes... counting his heartbeats... He jerked himself awake when the door at the end of the twin rows of cells opened. He blinked a few times and ran a hand through his unruly curls, now nearly dry. Heavy boot steps approached but Ronon felt as if the tendrils of a fever were warming his muscles and he couldn't be bothered to move.

Rashid's bearded face appeared on the other side of the bars beside a slave bearing a torch. He narrowed his eyes as he peered at Ronon. "Satedan. Franklin. Wake."

Ronon lifted his head more to show that he wasn't asleep and his master smiled a little, his gold earrings glinting in the wavering torchlight.

"You did well tonight. I thank you for many hundreds you have earned me already."

Ronon swallowed, his throat feeling heated and dry, but did not speak.

"You come from the south, no? You were a field worker?"

Ronon shifted, his eyes on the man.

Rashid raised a brow. "You will answer me. Where did you learn to fight? You were in the rebellion in the south?"

Ronon shook his head no.

"No? Hmm. Another fight ring?"

Ronon furrowed his brow, moistening his throat. "They were all killed."

"Who?" Rashid took a step forward.

"The slaves in the uprising."

Rashid laughed. "Is that what they told you? Lies. You slaves come scratching and clawing from the womb."

The Satedan suddenly stood.

Rashid cocked his head at him. "Where is Sateda? In the east?"

Ronon narrowed his eyes, their jade shimmering as they reflected the flames of the torch, his lips parting. _Lies... lies... Teyla..._ His eyes slid to Rashid's.

"Where is Sateda?"

"Where are the slaves?"

Rashid's brows shifted to hood his eyes like a hawk. "You had family there?"

Ronon hesitated then nodded.

Rashid let out a slightly amused sound. "Now you'll die."

Ronon straightened.

Rashid stepped up to the bars. "You survived tonight... because you had nothing to lose." He eyed him. "Shame. I had hoped you would bring me a great purse. No matter." He took a step away. "It's a terrible thing for a man to outlive his purpose."

Ronon crossed to the bars in one stride, grabbing onto them. "Where are the freed slaves?"

Rashid smirked. "It was a lover, wasn't it?" He chuckled as he took a step away. "I hope she's worth dying for."

Ronon kicked the bars in frustration as Rashid continued down the hall.

"Save your strength. You fight again two nights from now!"

The darkness seemed to race after the light of the torch, relishing the space it was granted once the flames had passed as the two men walked down the hall. The door slammed shut, echoing against the stone walls. Ronon stepped backwards then looked over his shoulder at the small window at the top of his cell. He stepped towards it, craning his neck. His breath clouded before him but he could see stars.

**_Please review!  
_**


	25. XXV Warring

_**Author's Note:**_ Sorry that I haven't had the time to post in a while, so here's a chapter a little longer than usual. Enjoy and much love!

**XXV. Warring**

Teyla smiled a little as she watched Isabeau run back and forth, helping her father pack. Liliana was finishing packing up food for all of them and glanced to Teyla. "Have you eaten?"

She shook her head. "I am fine, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Teyla stepped over, picking up one of the packs and holding it open for the other woman.

Liliana smiled in thanks as she began to pack the satchel. "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you found us." She shook her head in wonder. "It makes me think that Ronon is more charmed than I'd imagined – this isn't the end of your story, I know it."

Teyla felt her throat tauten and her eyes conveyed the heartfelt hope and appreciation for Liliana's words that she could not find the tongue to voice.

Liliana squeezed her shoulder. "You know he is alive – that is enough for me. He has endurance like no other I've met. Whatever hardships he's facing, he'll be all right. And once he sees you alive and well he'll be all the stronger."

Teyla began to synch the pack shut. "He truly believes that I am dead?"

"A cruel joke." Liliana's brows were furrowed as she stuffed some hardy fruit into another pack. "You both believing the other was lost... well, the sooner we get to him the better. The region he's in is outside of jurisdiction."

"What does that mean?"

Liliana licked her lips, pausing to lock gazes with her. "It means that they make their own laws. Most escaped slaves free there to get away from the drivers that hunt them but they wind up living a worse life."

Teyla swallowed, slowly looking away. "It is difficult to imagine anything more horrible than the plantations."

Liliana rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. When Teyla hesitantly met her gaze again Liliana pulled her into a tight hug, their hearts beating against each other's breasts. Teyla bit her lip and hugged her back, surprised by the warm welcome of these strangers and the sense that she somehow already knew them, founded solely in the memory of Ronon within the walls of their home. "If it truly is such a dangerous place, then your children should be as far from it as possible."

Liliana nodded. "I know. My sister is on her way. She'll stay with them while we're gone."

Teyla pulled away. "Thank you for all of your help."

"You can thank me when Ronon's back with us, sitting by the fire." She smiled and brushed some hair off Teyla's cheek. "With your ship – maybe even tonight."

Teyla's smile was crooked and bashful, her heart leaping into her throat.

* * *

Ronon's side was burning and every now and then he'd glance at the festering cut across his ribcage, swallowing past the dryness of his throat as he noted the wound was growing puckered, red and swelling the surrounding flesh. He wiped at the sweat dotting his hairline, having known for some time now that the creeping sensation at the back of his throat indicated a growing fever. He'd outlasted infections many times as Runner and wasn't overly concerned about this one, however when he'd been outside he was able to wash and keep an eye out for any medicinal plants. He wasn't confined to a rank cell with a bucket of feces in the corner. He didn't have so many flies landing on him during the day that he eventually gave up swatting them away. The stench of the vomit a few cells down, baking in the sun, was enough to make him wish that this fever would sweep him into delirium.

The distant beat of the crowd chanting and cheering during a fight felt like it echoed the throb of his pulse in his wound and head and he leaned his forehead against the stone wall, letting out a deep breath, causing a fly to buzz off of his still-swollen lip. At least their tickling touch was a brush of life.

The doors at the end of the cell opened and he watched with lethargic interest as two armed slaves strolled down the hall. His brows twitched together when they paused in front of his cell and one began to unlock it. "Satedan?"

He stiffened, lowering one foot to the floor. "I'm not supposed to fight until tomorrow."

"Rashid changed his mind," the second slave grunted as he hauled Ronon by his arm, causing him to stumble to his feet.

Ronon yanked his arm back, straightening on his own. The slave glanced at the stain on his tunic from his wound. "That'll slow you down."

Ronon gave him a look of loathing then stiffly followed him out of the cell. He stretched his torso as they walked towards the arena, feeling the blood rushing about in his head from his sudden movement. His side twinged and flamed with each breath but he steeled himself against the pain, straightening his shoulders, his limbs suddenly alive with the feverish thought that once he was in the ring he would be in the open, and once he was in the open he may find escape and a way to Teyla.

The other two slaves shoved him at the doors and he could hear Rashid's voice booming around the arena, announcing The Satedan. The crowd cheered and stomped and stormed, but Ronon did not move. The two slaves who guarded him glanced at each other, silently agreeing to allow Ronon this slight insurrection. From the shadows of the entranceway he could see Rashid in his spectator's box, a finely-dressed woman snug around his arm. The two were smiling at the crowd as the cheers began to fade when Ronon did not enter right away.

Rashid's smile was slipping as he looked to the entranceway, knowing from the open gates that Ronon was there. He cleared his throat, smiling at the woman beside him, then let out a shaky breath, muttering "come out. Come _out_."

The crowd began to hum as discussions flared until one began to clap out a pulsing beat. The others soon joined, adding to the drum of their snapping flesh the chant of "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Ronon's lip curled in a small smile at the simplicity of it all. He was a slave yet had more power than his master.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

He waited several heartbeats longer, until the crowd began to stomp in time to the chant, coughing out their incantation. He then stepped into the arena, keeping his stride casual, causing the stands to erupt with cheers and hundreds of pounding feet as they drummed out their approval. Ronon sauntered to the middle of the arena, stopping in front of the sword on the sand, masking the ache of his fever-sapped muscles, and let out a dramatic, chest-heaving sigh. Many in the crowd laughed. He looked to Rashid who was no longer smiling.

Rashid raised his arm and the gates at the other side were opened, two other warriors spilling out. Ronon immediately sized them up, scowling. They were Bola Kai and he knew that more than a few full-forced blows from his sword would leave him winded. His mind immediately began to race through his mild panic, assessing the possibilities of his foes weaknesses, noting how one favored his right foot and how the other kept glancing to the stands, marking him as a newcomer. He'd be the easiest to take down.

Ronon glanced down at his sword, knowing that if he bent to retrieve it he'd betray the stiffness of his side and instead hooked his foot under the hilt and flicked the toe of his boot, a trick he mastered in the barracks of Sateda while bored and bonding with his fellow soldiers. The weapon spun upwards and he caught it by the hilt, prompting several in the crowd to laugh and whistle and cheer. The woman beside Rashid stepped forward and cocked her head.

The cries died down and there were several moments taut with anticipation as neither Ronon nor the Bola Kai moved. Ronon kept his eyes locked onto the one with the limp, fooling the other into thinking that he was momentarily invulnerable. No use in wasting energy going to them when one of them would come running at him in three... two... The Bola Kai charged from the side, just as Ronon had predicted, welding his axe above his head to land a sundering blow that never came, for Ronon extended his wingspan by holding out his blade, impaling the man, his motions slow and measured from his sickness, making it appear as casual as shaking water off his hands.

The crowd roared and cheered and laughed and even Rashid cracked a smile. The remaining Bola Kai panted as his fellow gurgled and dislodged himself from the blade, covering the spurting wound in his chest with his hand before tripping on his own feet. The standing Bola Kai looked from the gasping, writhing flesh to Ronon who shrugged. The Bola Kai screamed, attempting to drown out the roaring laughter from the crowd as he charged at him. The Satedan whipped his sword in front of him to parry a blow, stumbling back, realizing with a flush of adrenaline that he'd been fooled. This man was not injured at all.

The vibration of the hilt of the man's axe connecting with Ronon's sword sent a pulsating quiver down his arm, shooting into his shoulderblades. Ronon gasped and flexed his quads, bracing his frame and shoving against the axe with a scream, pushing the Bola Kai away from him. The other man stumbled backwards but swung as he hunkered down to catch his balance and Ronon leapt to the side, barely escaping the slicing blow as he landed on his chest. The crowd cheered and booed and Ronon coughed, the pain flaring from his wound momentarily making his vision swim. He could tell by the sudden roar of the stands that something was coming and hearing a footfall to his right he rolled to his left just as the axe was embedded beside him.

The Bola Kai grunted then swung again and Ronon parried the blow with his sword, knowing that the other man would take full advantage of the leverage of his weapon above him, then slammed the blade of the sword against his shins, slicing and bruising. He rolled away and rose to his feet while the Bola Kai screamed and stumbled then charged. Ronon ducked a rage-filled blow and used his momentum to hack into the man's leg, severing his hamstrings. The Bola Kai tripped on his limp leg then, stumbling backwards, landed on the axe of his dead companion, severing his own spine.

Ronon panted and stuck the sword into the ground to brace himself, watching as the Bola Kai went limp. He blinked several times as the blood rushing in his head made him dizzy and heard the roaring of the crowd like a distant sea.

Rashid grinned. "They love him. This man is a gold mine."

The woman beside him grinned, looking from him to Ronon.

* * *

The Jumper touched down under the cover of night, landing in a clearing a half mile from the main road. "This is as close as I feel comfortable," Sheppard commented, powering down the systems.

Teyla nodded. "Very well." She looked to Rodney, who was consulting his screen.

"He's west of us... he's been in a relatively small area for a while now."

"So they've got him cooped up," Sheppard said as he rose, double-checking his gear. Teyla followed suit. The colonel looked over to Liliana and Curtis who were readying travelling cloaks. Sheppard, Teyla and McKay were all dressed in the attire of the people of the planet, concealing their weapons wherever they could.

As each slipped into a cloak McKay couldn't help a crooked smile. "I feel like we're... Hobbits or something."

Sheppard smirked and Teyla furrowed her brow. "What is a Hobbit?"

"They're these short little guys with big feet – remember, _Lord of the Rings_?"

She raised her brows. "Ah, yes."

"One of Ronon's favorite movies, as I recall," McKay added with another smile. Teyla returned the playful look and shook her head.

Sheppard strapped a handgun to the back of his belt beneath his cloak. "Well, we can all sit around and watch it together once we get back."

McKay looked to him. "Really? All three? That would be like, ten hours well spent."

"I'm sorry, to what are you referring?" Liliana asked.

Sheppard looked to her as he double-checked the knife in his boot. "It's just a form of entertainment. We'll tell you later."

Liliana nodded and smirked at Curtis then furrowed her brow at a sniffle that came from behind them. She and her husband both turned to look at the back of the empty Jumper.

McKay's eyes were a little wide. "What? What is it?"

Sheppard gently shoved forward. "I heard it, too." He pulled out his gun, glancing around, holding up a hand to keep the others quiet.

McKay nervously whispered to Teyla. "What do you think it was?" She glared at him and he quieted.

Sheppard cocked his head at another small sound, his brows scowling, then crouched by one of the benches, pressing on the release of latch. His face relaxed with irritated surprise when the compartment fell open and he saw what was inside.

McKay craned his neck to see. "What? What is it?"

Sheppard looked over at him. "A Hobbit." He held out his hand to help Isabeau out of the compartment.

* * *

Ronon couldn't keep from growling out a frustrated yelp as the alleged healer doused his side with an antiseptic solution, causing the already aggravated wound to sizzle and burn with such intensity that white spots began to dot his vision like mold. The healer allowed the solution to hiss on his flesh for some moments before dousing it with water, making Ronon gasp as the stinging liquid was washed away. "Here." The healer handed him a towel, stepping aside so that the Satedan could stiffly sit up from the table he was lying on.

He shakily did so, closing his eyes against a wave of nausea, gingerly pressing the towel to his throbbing side. "Aren't you going to stitch it?"

The healer stepped in front of him, wiping off his own hands. "Stitch?"

Ronon opened his eyes, staring at the man with exhausted shock that was washed away by the jaded thought that he should know better. "Nevermind."

"Step aside, healer," came a woman's lyrical voice.

Ronon looked over to see the elegantly dressed woman from Rashid's box. She smiled, the expression exaggerated by a delicate silver chain extending from a piercing above her lip to one on the side of her nose. Her lips were painted with a shade of warm rose and her eyes outlined by kohl. When she paused before him he could smell the fragrance that exuded her status.

Apprehension crept up the ladder of his spine as she smiled at him, holding out her hands. "Let me see."

He knew he didn't have a choice and slowly removed the stained towel, allowing her to peer at the wound.

She hissed. "You didn't get this today."

He only swallowed, wishing she'd leave him alone so that he could lie back down on the table and close his eyes for a few minutes before the healer returned, the idea of getting some sleep in a room that only stank of torchflame and mildew was enough to make his eyelids heavy.

She glanced to his eyes when he didn't answer then peered at the wound again, lightly pinching at the inflamed skin around it. "Does this hurt?" He hissed in a breath and she smiled at his reaction, straightening. "I am Lady Dannella, but you can call me Danni." She continued to smile, waiting for him to offer his name, but his lips never moved. "Look," she said as she lowered her voice, glancing around her and reaching up to take off her gold-threaded headshawl. "Rashid doesn't know I'm down here so I have to make this quick."

Ronon furrowed his brow then looked down to his wound, gently pressing the towel against it once more as it began to run.

"How would you like a hot bath and a bed to sleep in tonight?"

Ronon looked back up at her with surprise, his heart skipping a beat as he wondered if she could possibly be another Abolitionist who could help him, but the second he realized that her eyes were tracing the contours of his shoulders and torso instead of his face he knew otherwise.

She smiled again when she realized he was watching her. She took a step closer, reaching out to cup his chin. He would have pulled away but knew it would only bring a fresh bout of pain from his finally calming side, so he held still, and she mistook his stiffness for compliance. She tilted his chin, eyeing the wound on his lip then let go, sitting down beside him, resting one hand on his thigh and tangling the other in the curls at the base of his neck. "Of course..." she dropped her voice to a heavy tone, her hand inching inward along his thigh, "...you'll have to make love to me first." She tilted her chin so that her lips were beside his ear. "Do I make it sound like that's a bad thing?"

Her hand began to grope and he shoved her arm away, turning to look at her. "I have a wife." In the heartbeat that it took for Dannella to recover her simpering smile, Ronon's heart quickened when he realized that even if what he'd said wasn't true in the eyes of some, it was to him, and the knowledge that he was willingly bound to Teyla gave him a rush of strength that cut through the haze of fever in his mind.

"A wife?" she whispered, trying to return her hand to where it left off.

"Yeah." He continuously batted her hand away as he answered. "A wife."

"I didn't know your kind had wives." She finally seemed content to rest her hand on his knee.

Ronon couldn't hide his scathing expression and looked away.

"I have a husband. He doesn't know I like to play with his toys."

His breath hitched as he felt his heart begin to beat faster.

She trailed her fingertip down his cheek and over the bump of his jawline, down his neck. "I'll bet you enjoy pleasuring her." She leaned in and planted a kiss on the stubble on the skin over the hinge of his jaw. Her other hand came to rest on his chest, her fingers digging into the muscle. "Well... she's not here. I want you to pretend I'm her."

He turned to look back at her, his lips parting to call for the healer when suddenly hers were against his, sucking and tugging as she lifted a leg out of the slit in her long skirt, straddling him and pressing her torso against his, pushing him backwards.

"Lie down," she whispered, as if he had a choice with her weight leaning against his wound, and he gave in with a quiet gasp and a quiver of pain. She smiled as she repositioned herself on him, reaching down to pinch his side, catching him off guard and making him yelp. "I love that sound." She kissed him again, nipping at his lower lip, digging her fingernails into his chin to hold his mouth in place when he tried to pull away. She let out a hungry moan when she broke the scab on his lip and began to suck at the iron of his blood, sending shooting pains into his jaw.

Ronon had the thought to bite her tongue but given her behavior, he figured she might actually enjoy it. He placed a hand on either side of her hips and tried to shove her off of him but she only laughed and gripped with her thighs, biting his lip and pinching his wound in return.

"My bodyguard will hold you down if he must," she half-panted as she parted her lips from his. "But I _will_ have you."

Ronon's heart was hammering in his chest, wild despair heightening the jade of his eyes as he realized that she was right. He'd seen her bodyguard and two others just outside the infirmary, a few feet from her beck and call. He knew that he couldn't escape, that she could make his body betray him, and that all his strength and his sense of honor burnt like paper in the flame of this corruption. His only hope was to plead with her. "Dannella..." She smiled sweetly, as if she really were his lover, tangling a hand in his hair. His lips pressed together as he swallowed, his eyes pleading. He couldn't manage more than a whisper. "Please..."

She cocked her head and adopted a compassionate expression upon seeing the plea in his eyes. "Aww." She leaned down and dragged her tongue over his chin, licking up the blood that trickled from his split lip. "Already begging? You can have fun, too, you know." She pinned his hands down as kissed him again with a thrust of her pelvis and he gasped, chest and face flushing as he felt the glands of his body react. Her hand unfastened his breeches and began to tug as she shifted her lips to his neck.

The touch of their flesh didn't seem to be enough to sate her and she grabbed at his side and lapped at the blood on his lip, seemingly finding the most pleasure in his gasps and squeaks and intermittent cries of pain as she did so. When at last they shuddered she moaned and jerked and panted against his chest, nipping at his flesh in cruel mockery of love bites as she continued to shiver with pleasure. She slid off him and noticed the tears that slid down his cheek with a smile, bending over to taste one with the tip of her tongue tangling a hand in his hair and pressing her lips against his cheek as she murmured, "Pretty, don't cry. I'll be back tomorrow." She kissed him again, her tongue once more probing his wound before she readied herself and left.

It wasn't until he heard the metal of the gate shutting that he dared to move, fixing his trousers and examining his now bleeding side wound, letting his chest shake as he gasped out a full sob, biting his lip and whimpering against the onslaught of disgust, filth, loathing, guilt, and helplessness, all of which were warring for the chance to pierce his heart first.

_**Please review!**_


	26. XXVI Decaying

_**Author's Note:**_ By the way, if this is getting too heavy and you need a break, I suggest checking out my sister's lighthearted story, "The Dinner Party." :) Just look it up under the pen name "Alex Took."

**XXVI. Decaying**

He curled up as small as he could in the corner, away from the flickering torchlight in the hall. A night fog had rolled in and coated the stone walls with mist and if he'd angled his face right, he would have seen that his breath clouded before him in the cold. Instead he was sweating, his tunic sticking to his chest and back as he rubbed his head against the wall until he belatedly realized what he was doing. He sighed and closed his eyes, pulling his legs up closer, only dully noting the pain from his side as he did so.

He'd been in the corner for hours. Rashid's men had come in to set down a bowl of stew and a bowl of water, but after drinking the water he couldn't find room in his empty stomach to hold the food. He'd only been back in his cell a few minutes before he knew that his resistance to his fever was as useless as his resistance to Dannella. There was no use in trying to keep it at bay any longer. He couldn't fight anymore. He was decaying flesh hinged on bone. He was unworthy of the rank breath that filled his lungs. He didn't ever want to see Teyla again.

He had betrayed her. He had let her down in so many ways... he fervently hoped that if she had survived the uprising, as Rashid claimed the slaves did, that she would believe him dead. How could she ever meet his gaze? Ronon the Runner who couldn't flee for help. Ronon the warrior who couldn't fight alongside her in the rebellion. Ronon the lover who couldn't be faithful. He dug his fingers into his curls, yanking as he gritted his teeth, wishing he could tear off his own fetid flesh.

He screamed and flung his arm, as if throwing something away from him, whimpering as the cell tilted and rocked as if he were on a ship, causing him to brace himself against the wall as he waited for everything to stop moving. Nothing stopped moving. He shivered, blinking, momentarily distracted by his sense of rolling in the sea until the pitter patter of rain beginning to fall grounded him once more.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the wall, waiting for the spinning to stop. He tried to focus his mind, to overpower the memory of Dannella's long-nailed fingers digging into his wound. He saw a meadow. He let out a deep breath and the image expanded to include a stream. Then a house on the fringe of the forest, built from rough hewn timber. There was a porch and a henhouse, a stable and a barn in the distance. And barking... barking... what was her name... Sniffer. He smiled a little. Good ole Sniffer. And little Isabeau playing chase with Sanura. Brianna smiling shyly at him while Curtis chuckled, whittling. Liliana smiled warmly, reaching out a hand to pull him into a hug. He reached for her, as well, but couldn't feel the brush of her fingers. When he opened his eyes he thought he could still see her before him, reaching for him...

"Liliana..." He leaned onto his knees, reaching further, but she faded away and all he saw was his cell door. He looked around, trying to find where she went, his heart beginning to race as he realized she'd never been there at all. She'd called him a slave. Curtis had hurt him. She'd let those men take him away. She knew he was disgusting. She knew.

He clenched his jaw and screeched in an attempt to rid his breast and head of the broiling, itching thoughts that whispered and laughed as they danced just out of reach, teasing him with jabs to the heart. It felt as if a fire were kindled in his skin and spreading from the back of his neck. He was so hot... he had to go underwater. He had to drown.

There was a steady rain outside and some was trickling in from the window, slithering down the wall. Ronon shakily rose, scraping his fingernails against the stones, stumbling towards the water and pressing his lips against the rocks, a wild thirst suddenly awakening as he kissed the wall, trying to drink. The tang of mildew in his mouth reminded him of Dannella's tongue and he pulled his away from the wall, sliding onto his knees as his legs gave out, pressing his cheek and temple against the cooling trickle. The slime that scraped onto his cheek made him feel clean.

* * *

McKay stared at Isabeau and she stared back, mimicking his slouched position with his arms over his chest in the passenger's chair. She furrowed her brow a little and he narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Her blonde brows rose. "I didn't say anything."

"You made a face."

"I'm _bored_."

"Yeah? Well that makes two of us. The last thing I thought I'd be doing on this mission is babysitting. Why'd you have to disobey your parents anyway?"

"I wanted to help Ronon." She glared. "He's my best friend. I wanted to sneak out and find him before everyone else did then sneak back and surprise everyone."

McKay blinked and leaned back. "Well, that's a very well-thought out plan."

She smiled a little, wiggling in the seat to get comfortable.

McKay looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he checked to make sure his radio was functioning properly. "That was a joke, you know."

"What was?"

"What I just said."

"That wasn't funny."

"No, it's not that kind of humor, it's called sarcasm – look, just, never mind."

Bo sighed. "When are they gonna be back?"

"I don't know."

"Can you ask?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because they might be in the middle of something important."

"But they might _not_ be."

"Oh for the love of – can't you just entertain yourself?"

"How about you stay here and I go look for Ronon?"

McKay arched a brow. "How long did it take you to think that one up?"

Isabeau leaned forward. "Pleeease?"

"Absolutely not. You're a little girl!"

"Momma would let me do it."

"No, she would _not_. That's why she asked me to stay here with you. To make sure you behave this time."

"No. Col. Sheppard asked me to stay here to watch _you_."

"He was joking when he said that."

Bo studied him for a moment then slowly smirked. McKay warily eyed her smile until he realized that she'd just gotten sarcasm for the first time and he smirked back.

* * *

Sheppard, Teyla, Curtis and Liliana stayed together, each couple paired, heading in through the gates to the fight ring. Teyla was looking about for any clue as to where the slaves were kept, wincing as a man in a stall next to her bellowed out his verbal advertisement for placing bets through him. She stepped closer to Sheppard, able to tell by the deepened lines of his expression that this place worried him as much as it did her. They found their way to a quieter corner and Sheppard un-tucked the handheld device from his tunic. Ronon's signal was coming from below them. "All right," he whispered. "Let's split up – try to find a way downstairs."

Liliana and Curtis nodded. "We'll meet you back here in a half hour."

Sheppard inclined his head. "Right."

Curtis and Liliana departed in one direction and Sheppard and Teyla in another. Teyla couldn't keep her eyes from scanning the face of every man they passed, channeling her focus into her vision to quickly discriminate each passerby. She then noticed a set of iron gates off to the side. "There."

Sheppard glanced to them then to his device. "Let's check it out."

The two casually strolled over to the gates as the crowd began to trickle down the hall in the opposite direction, towards the stands. They slipped through the gates and down a flight of stairs and Teyla's heart raced as they ended in a corridor. She quickened her step, heading for the gate at the end of the hall. Sheppard's voice was quietly excited as he looked to his device again. "He's right there."

She yanked open the gates, trotting inside, glancing left and right at the cells, gasping for a moment at the stench of human filth festering underground. The cells on either side of her were empty and her pulse stole her breath as she hurried forward, pausing by each cell with a human being within it. One man was startled by her, another was trying to sleep, another furrowed his brow, one was lying on the floor, another was –

She doubled back, walking slowly as the broad shoulders, narrow waist and brown curls screamed for her to look again. The man was curled up with his back to the cell door, an untouched bowl of stew, crawling with flies lethargic from the rainy weather, sitting next to the door. She grabbed onto the bars of the cell, pressing her forehead against the metal, her heart skipping a beat then hammering painfully as she recognized his long legs. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Ronon..."

Sheppard caught up with her, glancing wildly from his device to the shivering form on the cell's filthy floor. He blinked, trying to reconcile what was before him with the image in his head of what he'd half-expected: Ronon seemingly waiting for them at the door of his cell.

Teyla swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes and she blinked to clear her vision, strengthening her voice. "Ronon." He didn't move. She called louder. "Ronon."

"He's breathing," Sheppard whispered.

Teyla shook her head, a tear escaping. "He is not well. Ronon!"

There was a clank as the door opened and a tall man entered, furrowing his brow at seeing the two. "Hey!"

Sheppard tugged on Teyla's arm and she jerked it away, refusing to tear her gaze from Ronon.

Sheppard gave her a frustrated glance and turned to face the approaching man with a smile. "How's it going?"

"What is the meaning of this?" The man brushed past them and peered into the cell to check on his stock before looking back to them. "You are not supposed to be down here."

"Oh, sorry... we're new around here..." Sheppard held out his hand while Teyla turned her face to wipe at her tears. "John Sheppard."

The tall man eyed him beneath a furrowed brow then looked to his hand.

Sheppard smiled crookedly and half-shrugged before pulling his hand back. "Just a custom of ours."

"I am Rashid. You are trespassing on my property."

Sheppard's brows shot up. "Oh, _you're_ Rashid." He glanced over his shoulder at Teyla. "Honey, we found him."

Teyla turned back to them, smiling briefly.

Rashid studied the two with narrowed eyes.

"You're a tough man to track down," Sheppard continued the charade. "But I hear you're the best."

Rashid sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sheppard bit his lip. "We're in the market for some fighters."

"I see."

"I'll pay you big money for this one." Sheppard gestured to Ronon.

Rashid followed his gaze then narrowed his eyes. "That one is my prize fighter. He is not for sale."

"Well, that's why we want him. We... saw him fight a little while ago."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot help you." Rashid glanced over his shoulder as the gate opened again and Dannella entered, striding over to her husband. He held out his hand and she took his, stopping by his side.

"Well, we'd be doing you a favor," Sheppard continued, gesturing to Ronon. "He looks like he's on his deathbed. No big loss for you."

"He is _sick_," Rashid replied, enunciating. "My physician neglected to inform me of his condition. He shall rest for several days to regain his strength."

Teyla bit her lip as she studied Ronon once more while the men talked and tears began to pool in her eyes again. She blinked fiercely, fighting them away before they fell, then looked back over to the others only to notice the other woman studying her intently with her khol-lined eyes. Teyla's brows twitched together and the other woman gave her a teasing smirk, glancing to Ronon then back to Teyla before returning her attention to her husband and Sheppard. Teyla's spine straightened.

"You are not familiar to me," Rashid was saying. "You own a fight ring?"

"Yeah..."

"What is it called?"

"It's... called... Barnum & Bailey's... Greatest Show on Earth."

Rashid narrowed his eyes in confusion.

Sheppard grimaced. "Like I said, we're not from around here."

"So I see." Rashid studied him for a few moments longer then shook his head a little. "I am sorry, but he is not for sale. Perhaps after the show I could interest you in some of my other stock?"

"Yeah," Sheppard sighed with a nod. "I'd appreciate that."

Rashid grinned. "Excellent." He held out his elbow and Dannella wrapped her arm around it. "Please, let us escort you out."

Sheppard reluctantly nodded and held out his arm for Teyla, who hesitated before stepping away from the cell. Rashid and Dannella had turned their backs to them and were headed for the metal gate as Teyla reached behind her back for her pistol. Sheppard noticed her movement and stilled her, jerking his head at a contingent of what looked to be guards approaching from the other end to ready the fighters. She scowled but did as he silently asked.

"Lord Rashid!"

Rashid turned to look over his shoulder and smiled, slipping past Sheppard and Teyla. He looked to Sheppard as he passed. "Please, continue. I will see you after the fight."

Sheppard reluctantly nodded, continuing with Teyla. Dannella walked past them to catch up with her husband.

Teyla leaned close to Sheppard once they were back upstairs. "We cannot just leave him there."

"We're not going to."

She looked over her shoulder at the stairs then back to Sheppard, her nostrils flaring with frustration. "I have come _so_ far – "

"I know." He sighed, glancing about for the Espens. "They'll be distracted during the fight. We'll get him out then."

"How?"

"I'm working on it." He noticed Liliana and walked over, Teyla reluctantly trailing behind, stepping further away from Ronon.

**_Please review!_**


	27. XXVII Snagging

**XXVII. Snagging**

Was he breathing? He had to be for something pressed against his ribs... the floor. The floor pressed against his ribs each time he took a breath. He was breathing. And thirsting. He was so thirsty and he could hear water nearby. Where was it? Where was he?

"Ronon..."

His eyes opened a crack, mere slits of light green. Teyla... that sounded like Teyla.

"Ronon!"

No... it wasn't her. He was sick. He knew he was sick. She wasn't there, just like Liliana wasn't really there earlier. No one was there... he was alone. Just himself and his body... he knew there was something else in him than his body because he could still think... how could he think if all he was heated flesh? Was he thinking? Where was he?

_Ronon. My name is Ronon._

Minutes passed as he struggled to maintain lucidity. Voices wafted, sounding muffled like whale's calls, then faded as he slipped into sleep, or maybe it was oblivion. A hand squeezed his shoulder, rolling him over. Something pinched and prodded his side and the pain jerked his eyelids open once more, his vision rippling without focus.

"Well?"

"His fever is extremely high."

Who were they talking about?

"What can be done?"

Hands were on his face and neck, feeling his racing pulse, and he couldn't stay awake any longer. _Just for a minute... I just need to sleep for a minute_. He let his eyes slip shut.

The healer sighed, sitting back on his haunches. "I can give him some herbal teas... apply fresh salve to the wound... but I'm afraid I can't guarantee that he'll live, much less fight again."

Rashid shook his head, scowling at the body on the filthy floor before him. "Do whatever you need to do to get him back on his feet – to get a sword back in his hand."

The healer looked over his shoulder at Rashid with a doubtful expression on his face.

Rashid sighed. "At least he wasn't expensive."

Dannella furrowed his brow, eyeing Ronon's heaving chest. "He took such a sudden turn..."

Rashid narrowed his eyes and looked over at her.

She blinked and smiled, her lip muscles quivering ever so slightly, shaking the delicate chain. "He fought so well yesterday."

Rashid didn't take his eyes off her and she blinked, looking away. He let out a long exhale.

The healer made a distasteful sound as he examined Ronon's side wound. "It's all inflamed..." He squinted as he craned his neck to peer further. "The fool. See these marks?" Rashid crouched to view the torn and red streaks coming off the injury like faults. "He's clawed at his own wound... the grime of his fingernails infected it..."

Rashid studied the thin red marks for a moment longer then grabbed one of Ronon's hands, examining his fingernails in the light. They were hardly more than stubs from nervous biting and picking. He swiftly rose, snagging Dannella's hand and spreading her fingers, looking at her sharpened nails. She tugged on her hand and he scowled, locking eyes with her.

Dannella yanked her hand free and met his gaze with a look of challenge.

The lines outlining her husband's mouth deepened. His voice was a growl. "You..."

She cocked her head. "What?"

"With him?" Rashid barked, gesturing to Ronon. Dannella wouldn't let her eyes drift away long enough to acknowledge the unconscious Satedan. Rashid sneered, grabbing her by the shoulders. "How many others?!"

"What's it matter to you?"

"You are my wife!"

"Yes, I am your _wife_. Not a slave!"

Rashid shoved her away from him. "You disgust me."

Dannella's lip was quivering. "You've known for months. You just chose not to see it."

"Silence!"

"Don't order me about like some – "

She gasped and fell quiet when the metal of his unsheathed sword suddenly kissed her throat. Rashid shook his head, his jaw quivering with rage. "You will pay for this humiliation."

Dannella tentatively swallowed, closing her eyes as the action made the blade nick her throat.

"You are a disease... you are no longer my wife." He yanked his sword away from Dannella and glanced to the healer who looked reluctant to be dragged into their marital dispute. "What are this slave's chances?"

"...Rather slim, my lord."

Rashid sheathed his sword. "Then goldmine or no, he's of little further use to me..." He pivoted to narrow his eyes at Dannella who rubbed her neck. "Now that you've infected him."

Dannella glanced from her husband to Ronon, then back, regaining her composure. "He was asking for it. He enjoyed it as much as I."

Rashid nudged at Ronon's inflamed wound, marked by her nails, with his boot. "I somehow doubt that." He turned back to her and she swallowed hard but attempted to maintain her haughty stance. "Physician?"

"Yes?"

"How are your stores of the Sonomac herb?"

The healer licked his lips. "That depends on your request, my lord."

"I want you to prepare your most potent dose and administer it to this man. That should be enough to keep him lucid, no?"

"Yes, my lord... it would be far more than enough."

"Good. I want him on his feet and ready to die in an hour."

Dannella looked to Rashid out of the corner of her eye.

The healer bowed. "Yes, my lord."

"Now," Rashid continued, turning back to Dannella. "You will say nothing of your indiscretions. When the time comes, I will spread the word that I am tired with you and you may return to that brothel you ran before we met. One slip on your part and I'll kill you myself. Is that clear?"

Dannella narrowed her eyes.

"Good." Rashid smiled and held out his elbow to her. "Shall we?"

Dannella hesitated then stepped forward, linking her arm with his. The two strolled out of the cell.

"I'll have my men fetch him in an hour."

The healer nodded. "Very good, my lord."

Dannella licked her thumb, running it over the sting of her cut, attempting to wipe away the drying blood before she was in public.

* * *

Teyla, Sheppard, and the Espens hung around the entrance to the stands that rung the fight arena, standing to the side as spectators filed in. Teyla clenched and unclenched her jaw, glancing surreptitiously in the direction of the stairs leading to Ronon's cell. Liliana's face was flushed and Curtis had her hand linked in his to keep her still. Both women shared an impatient, frenzied look then turned to Sheppard.

The colonel was zoning out, watching the various passerby then did a double-take when he noticed the two women looking to him with accusing, expectant gazes. He furrowed his brow and shrugged a little, silently asking "what?"

Teyla dragged her head away, letting out a chest-heaving sigh.

"There he is," Curtis mumbled, peering into the arena as Rashid and Dannella stepped into their spectator's box.

Sheppard craned his neck to follow his gaze then nodded curtly. "That's good enough for me. Let's go."

Teyla and Liliana swiftly took the lead, each woman's cloak billowing out behind her as they strode to the gates leading to the stairwell. Sheppard and Curtis had to jog to catch up at first. Teyla had her pistol drawn and made no move to conceal it as she descended the stairs, Liliana and the two males on her heels. She all-but ran down the hallway of cells, her heart slamming into her ribcage when she saw that the door to Ronon's cell was wide open and the Satedan was gone. She dashed inside.

Liliana looked around frantically. "Where is he?"

Teyla slowly looked to Sheppard, her eyes dark. Sheppard shook his head a little. "He's not dead... Rashid wanted to help him... maybe he's in the infirmary."

Curtis leaned against the cell door, biting his lip in thought. When he noticed Liliana staring about at the ghoulish prison, lost in thought over Ronon having been cold and wounded, locked up in this semi-darkness, he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. "It'll be all right, Lil..."

He could feel her exhale against his neck and knew she was fighting back tears. "We let them do this to him... we let them take him..."

Curtis rubbed her back, his own throat tautening.

Sheppard and Teyla were already making their way down the opposite hall. The colonel glanced over his shoulder at the couple. "We're gonna check the infirmary!"

Curtis nodded then looked back to his wife and offered her a small smile. She sniffled and didn't return the smile so he tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear and whispered. "We're gonna find him."

"We should never have let him go."

"He knew, love. He wanted to protect us."

"He's too young... we should've been protecting _him_."

Curtis sighed, pulling her close again and rubbing her back. "...If we didn't have the girls to think about... you know we would've fought tooth and nail. But he wouldn't want that. He loves you and those girls like his own family. He'd rather die than put them in harm's way."

Liliana closed her eyes, a tear escaping. "I know... I'm just terrified that it's come to that."

Curtis squeezed her tightly and she returned his strength in her own hug.

"He is not there," came Teyla's breathless voice as the Athosian trotted back over, Sheppard on her heels.

"They must have him in a private sickbay. I've still got his signal but can't see how to get to it down here. Unless there's a –"

He cut himself off and furrowed his brow as the drumbeat of hundreds of feet thumping in the stands began to echo through the floor of the arena, into the holding cells. Teyla also furrowed her brow, her brown eyes locking onto Sheppard's. Liliana took a step away from Curtis and over to the two from Atlantis, cocking her head at the sound. The muffled reverberations of a chant slithered through the stones.

Curtis' voice was a whisper. "What're they saying?"

Sheppard listened for a few heartbeats longer before his face suddenly went lax, his voice low. "Satedan."

Teyla shoved him out of the way as she raced for the stairs, the others on her heels.

**_Please review!_**


	28. XXVIII Ripping

**XXVIII. Ripping**

Ronon was clinging to the guard who helped support his weight, urging him forwards towards the entrance of the fight ring. The very act of breathing felt a chore, as if chains constricted his lungs. The world spun in and out of focus and the ground felt like it was shifting. The thunderous chanting of the crowd reverberated against his skull, rattling his skeleton. The guard stopped and let go, shoving him to lean against the side of the wall just before the arena entrance.

Ronon blinked and shook his head, trying to maintain a focus that was gyring and tilting. He was outside the fight arena, that much he knew, but what was he doing there? He thought he'd been sleeping. For a while he thought he was dreaming, but the stone wall beneath his fingers felt real enough. His heart fluttered with adrenaline as he realized this was a waking nightmare and that he'd be expected to fight. Fight? He didn't even know if he could walk. Something was wrong with his head.

Rashid held out his arms, scanning the crowd from the spectator's box. "I give you, the final stand of the Satedan!"

The audience roared and stomped, chanting the warrior's nationality as if they knew the land from whence he hailed. "Sate-dan! Sate-dan! Sate-dan!"

Rashid swung his arm and the gates opened. The guards pushed Ronon forward and he stumbled onto the sand of the arena, wincing and planting his feet wide apart to keep from losing his balance. Several in the crowd fell quiet when they noticed his haggard appearance and wilted stance.

Teyla shoved through the onlookers, earning many angry shouts and insults which made Sheppard glare and bark a few back as he followed her. She made it to the front row of the ring, ignoring the protestations of the other fightgoers as Sheppard and the Espens shoved their way to her side. She gasped when she saw Ronon's wan figure. "Ronon..."

"Our brave warrior will face none other than the spawn of evil itself!" Rashid bellowed.

Ronon's chest was heaving, the words filtering into his mind as if through a barrier of water. He noticed a blade stabbed into the center of the arena and staggered over to it, leaning against the handle. Teyla looked to Sheppard but the colonel only returned the frustrated concern in her eyes. There was no way to get to Ronon without being killed themselves.

The Satedan let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes in an effort to gather his wits, pleading with his body to listen to him one final time, promising it rest after this last effort, this final flutter in life. The gates opened on the other side of the arena and his opponent entered to the cheers and boos of those in the stands, but Ronon didn't open his eyes, maintaining his vigilance over his own flesh.

The Wraith that had entered the arena was unlike any Teyla had ever seen before, and she found herself pitying the beast. His hair was tied back in knotted clumps, dyed red for show. His hands and feet were chained together with ball weights on the ends of each to prohibit him from fleeing into the stands. He hissed and snarled at the crowd, a pike clutched in his useable hand, a metal muzzle on his feeding hand. He looked just as drawn and hungry as the human in the ring.

Ronon took slow and steady breaths, immediately registering the noises of the stalking Wraith for what they were, the hair on the back of his neck rising in primal response. _In and out. In and out. Just keep breathing. Focus. Listen._

Teyla unsheathed her pistol, concealing it in the sleeve of her cloak, switching off the safety ready to fire at any moment. As she watched Ronon hunched and still, leaning against the sword, she knew that he was gathering his strength, that he was still willing to fight, and she'd be damned if these few, terrified moments would be his last. She flexed her grip and Sheppard noticed, muttering to her out of the corner of his mouth, staring ahead. "What're you doing?"

Teyla likewise continued to stare ahead. "I will not let him die at the hands of a Wraith."

"If you kill that Wraith, these guards will kill _you_." His eyes gestured to the several large, armed and armored slaves dotting the stands. "We can't take out enough of 'em to get him and get out."

Teyla didn't flinch. "I understand. When you can, leave this place. Do not look back."

"...What?"

She glanced to him for the briefest moment. "I will die with him."

"Teyla..."

Curtis leaned over ever so slightly, having noticed the two whispering. "You folks working on a plan?"

Sheppard swallowed hard. "Hardly."

Teyla let out a breath. "Go, John."

Sheppard turned to look at her then, his face a battlefield of heartache.

Teyla smiled the tiniest bit, her eyes conveying her love and gratitude for her dear friend.

Sheppard swallowed, looking back out into the arena where guards were unchaining the Wraith's hands so that he could move them separately. He blinked. "No."

Teyla stiffened.

Sheppard's voice was low and husky. "I'm not going anywhere."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye then gazed ahead once more, her jaw quivering ever so slightly, her heart swelling. "...Very well."

Sheppard smirked, subtly unholstering his pistol as well.

Ronon kept his eyes shut and heard the clink of the chains as they fell away and slid out of the Wraith's shackles. The voices of the crowd were as hushed as a distant sea. All that existed was the Wraith and his heartbeat. He could smell the fetid breath of his enslaved brother as the Wraith neared, the heat of Ronon's living flesh tantalizing him into madness. _So close and yet so far..._ Ronon could hear how the Wraith favored one foot over the other, meaning that he was readying to attack with a throwing weapon in the opposite hand. His feeding hand would be muzzled... he would dine on another slave as reward if he killed the Satedan.

The Wraith hissed and charged at Ronon with the lance. Ronon felt his footfalls then opened his eyes, spinning to face his opponent, using the momentum of his turn to pull the sword from the ground and knock the spearhead away from his body. The Wraith snarled and staggered as his weapon was deterred and his charge stinted. Ronon's fragile balance was thrown off by his defensive blow and as the blade arced back to the ground, so did he. He landed on his back, jarring his wound and let out a cry of pain, coughing and shivering.

Teyla closed her eyes as much of the crowd hushed, unaccustomed to seeing The Satedan in pain. Liliana shouted at the Wraith to stop and Curtis grabbed her shoulders, trying to keep her from climbing into the ring.

Ronon coughed out a few breaths then groped for his sword, his senses clearing enough to recall what was happening. The Wraith had already regained his footing, chained together by a couple of feet of metal as his feet were, and hissed, running at the prone human with his spear. Ronon gauged his approach, his fingers scraping the sand until at last they touched the hilt of the sword and he screamed, flinging all of his strength into raising the blade. The sword sliced into the Wraith's side, making him howl and stagger and fall to the ground.

Sheppard was gripping Teyla's arm, having stopped her from raising her weapon moments before. Both watched with hitched breath, as did the rest of the crowd, the sight of two pitifully gamely, floundering creatures barely able to fight hardly seeming worth the effort of cheering.

Rashid glared from his box, howling in rage when the Wraith let out a wheeze and let his body relax as much as Ronon's, neither showing any signs of rising. "Fight!" Neither stirred. "Fight!" He shoved past Dannella and out of his box, making his way down into the arena as many booed and demanded their money back. He held up an indifferent, placating hand, striding into the ring.

He stopped in front of the Wraith first and kicked him in the shoulder. "Get up. Get up you beast!" The Wraith looked at him with unfocused, glassy eyes. Rashid snarled and fumbled for a key, unfastening the muzzle on the Wraith's feeding hand. He rose, catching his breath. gesturing to the Satedan with his head. "He's yours." The Wraith merely let out a groaning hiss and looked away, his breathing labored.

Rashid sneered and crouched beside Ronon, yanking on his arm in an attempt to make him stand. "Up! Get up! Fight!"

Ronon's entire world swayed and his breathing hitched from the effects of the herb and his fever. He gripped Rashid's arm, trying to comply, but his sluggish, weak attempts were too slow for the older man and he screamed in frustration and kicked Ronon's injured side. The Satedan let out a cry he couldn't even hear as his senses were blinded with the flaming fury of spiked fire burning through his veins, burrowing into his muscles and constricting his floundering heart.

The scream made Teyla's stomach coil with a chill and she dug her palms against the railing of the arena, hoisting herself up before Sheppard could get a good grip on her to hold her back. "Teyla!"

Liliana held a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out.

The crowd erupted in murmurs as Teyla's feet landed on the sand of the ring and she stalked towards Rashid. "Do not _touch_ him."

Rashid furrowed his brow, releasing the Satedan and stepping backwards as she leveled her gun at him. Ronon fell limply onto his back, choking out a gasp, the world seemingly sucking into a black night sky cluttered with shimmering, swirling stars that blinked out just as he took note of them. Yet through the muffling vacuum of space he thought he could hear the voice of his heart, crying out in defense of him. It reminded his lungs to keep expanding and compressing. It reminded him to live. Teyla...

Rashid laughed at Teyla, holding up his hands as she stepped between him and Ronon. "Guards! Arrest this nuisance!"

"You know the rules!" Dannella shouted, staying the men. She smirked at Rashid in the ring below her. "Challenges are made in the arena. Your power holds no sway on the sand."

Sheppard and the Espens looked around them as the guards glanced to each other, heeding Dannella's words, respecting the wife's adherence to custom, even in the case of her husband.

Rashid glared up at her. "Why, you conniving cunt!"

She leaned against the railing of the spectator's box, smiling sweetly. "This is your fight ring. You made up the rules, dear."

Rashid's face began to slowly slacken with a creeping horror.

Teyla's eyes flickered between the husband and wife, her gun still leveled at his head. "I do not want to kill you. All I want is this man... and safe passage to my ship."

Rashid nodded several times. "Granted, by all means." He glanced down to Ronon whose labored breaths were stirring up dust. "Take your corpse."

Teyla sneered and adjusted her finger on the trigger, making Rashid stiffen. "You have just lost your chance at survival."

Sheppard was climbing over the railing, slowly so as to not draw attention. Most eyes were focused on the scene playing out in the arena so few noticed.

Rashid smirked. "If you wanted to kill me, you would've done it all ready."

Teyla blinked. "Do not try my patience." She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye yet remained focused on the man before her.

Rashid shook his head. "If you desire blood... then you should know that I have never harmed this man..." He gestured to Ronon. "However..." He held his hand out to indicate Dannella in the spectator's box. "That lovely whore you hear barking out orders saw fit to ravage my slaves, including my Satedan."

Teyla cocked her head, her lips parting as her heart hammered, letting out a small gasp as she attempted to wrap her mind around the suggestion of such suffering.

"If you don't believe me," Rashid continued, "look at the wound on his side. The woman is a sadist."

Teyla shook her head, her heart attempting to keep up with the pain of her mind, trying to understand. Then suddenly the memory of Dannella's smirk in the dungeons made it all clear. The movement to the side drew nearer and she didn't look away from Rashid, her muscles tensing. The murmur of the crowd rose. Teyla narrowed her eyes. "I know what you are trying to do."

Rashid spoke through gritted teeth. "Kill. Her."

Teyla stiffened, raising her chin. Rashid furrowed his brow as a breath fell against his neck. He turned around and looked up at the yellowed, feline eyes of the starving Wraith. He had only enough time to draw the breath to scream before the Wraith slammed his feeding hand against his sternum, hissing with pleasure as he siphoned his life force into his own body.

Teyla looked on with a satisfied gaze as Sheppard jogged to her side, his handgun trained on the feeding Wraith, glancing nervously to Teyla then down to Ronon who had yet to move. "He okay?"

Teyla didn't take her eyes off the feeding Wraith and the dying man before her. "...I do not know."

Sheppard looked down to Ronon again then back to the Wraith as it finished feeding, a greenish hue returning to his skin, his eyes suddenly revived and alive as he healed from his wound. He pulled his hand away and let the mummified corpse fall, turning to face Teyla and Sheppard with a satisfied sigh.

Dannella panted, leaning over the railing, stiffening as Rashid fell. Her eyes were wild with glee. She turned to the guards in her box. "I am your master now. Kill them." The guards nodded then jogged down the stairs, hastily dividing up weapons before approaching the arena.

There was movement on all sides as viewers began to trickle out of the stands, too unnerved by the sight of a healthy Wraith to risk being in an enclosed area with it. Others remained, fascinated by the carnal drama playing out before them.

Teyla and Sheppard stood their ground, defending their ailing teammate. The Wraith looked down at Ronon, back up at Sheppard, then Teyla. He pointed at Ronon and his voice came in a resonating hiss, as a snake's might if it could speak to humans. "Yours?"

Teyla furrowed her brow, blinking, her gun still aimed at the Wraith. Her voice was firm. "...No."

The Wraith cocked his head.

"He is his own." Teyla swallowed hard, blinking past moisture in her eyes. "But I love him, yes."

The Wraith let out a low rumble and nodded his understanding.

Teyla blinked again, clearing her vision, momentarily doubting the respect she saw in the eyes of the Wraith until she couldn't deny it.

Sheppard tensed as she slowly started forward. "Teyla..."

The Athosian ignored him, crouching slowly to retrieve the keys off of Rashid's belt. She rose, holding them out to the Wraith who took them in his clawed hand, inclining his head in gratitude. Teyla returned the gesture then backed away as the Wraith began to unlock his remaining weighted shackles just as the guards re-grouped and entered the arena.

Teyla hastily pointed her weapon at the approaching guards while Sheppard kept his trained on the Wraith, both standing beside Ronon who seemed to be struggling to regain any of his senses. Liliana and Curtis climbed over the railing and withdrew their weapons, heading over to reinforce the Atlanteans against the guards. Curtis stopped beside Teyla and Liliana paused beside Ronon, unable to keep from glancing to his wounded form with a worrying eye.

Dannella watched from the box as the guards formed a semi-circle around the others, activating their prods. There was an awkward tension: the numbers on both sides were nearly equal, but the Wraith was a wildcard and both groups seemed to be glancing nervously to him. The Wraith noticed their nerves and grinned, letting out a low chuckle. Dannella slammed her palm against the railing. "Kill them!"

The Wraith looked up at her then mock-bowed. "As you wish." He suddenly sprang at the nearest guard and, the tide having shifted, Sheppard and Teyla both began firing as the guards charged forward. Curtis pivoted to protect Ronon and Liliana as his wife dropped her gun and crouched to check on the Satedan. He was breathing but his pulse was rapid and erratic, coming and going in quick spurts. His flesh was heated and fevered and she ran a hand over his forehead in an attempt to draw what attention he had to her, but to no avail.

Curtis fired at one of the approaching guards but his bullets bounced off the man's armor. He yelped as a prod connected with his side. Teyla heard the cry and spun about, aiming for the guard's head and firing. The man toppled over and as she turned back around to face the last remaining guard she realized that Sheppard had already taken him out. The Wraith cast aside the guard he'd been feeding upon and looked up at Danella.

The remaining crowd was silent, leaning forward, their disbelief suspended, absorbed in the bloodshed.

Dannella began to back away from the railing then screamed as the Wraith leapt a clear twelve feet or so and flipped himself onto the balcony. Dannella scrambled out of the way but the Wraith slammed an arm into her, knocking her to the side. She stumbled on her gown, tripping over the side of the spectator's box, her fall only broken by her scarf snagging. She jerked and hung suspended for a moment before the snag tore and she fell the remaining six feet to land on the arena floor. The Wraith hissed down at her then ran for the exit from her box as the crowd began to come to their senses, screaming and running for the exits as the Wraith entered their ranks, stampeding prey.

Liliana was holding onto Curtis, assuring both that he was all right, and Sheppard took aim at Dannella as she coughed, struggling to shove aside her scarf and rise. Teyla narrowed her eyes at the other woman, slowly stepping to John's side and resting her hand on his gun, lowering it for him. Sheppard looked to her with reluctant understanding then nodded curtly.

Teyla glanced behind her at Ronon as Liliana crouched beside him once more. Secure that he was receiving aid, she turned her lioness eyes back to Dannella and cast aside her weapon. Dannella staggered to her feet, tearing off her scarf, cradling a bruised elbow. She noticed Teyla's stare and the way the others pulled back, allowing the Athosian her room, and straightened.

Teyla prowled around the other woman, sneering. Dannella arched a brow, pivoting to face her as she was circled. Her voice was tauntingly confident. "We are not so different, you and I. Women who know how to get what we want – power. Strength."

Teyla's composure was slipping, her voice firm. "Quiet. Your. Tongue."

Dannella smirked. "Even you must admit that we have one thing in common..." She let her smile grow haughty. "We've both saddled the same man."

Teyla's hand lashed out before Dannella could blink, swiping at the chain on her cheek and ripping it out of her face. Dannella screamed, grabbing at her bleeding nose and lip, looking to Teyla in shock. Teyla merely cocked her head, her muscles tensing. Dannella sneered. "That was made of Triolyte. It was worth more than any amount your husband could rut for trade!"

Teyla lunged at Dannella at the same time that the other woman brought her knee up to hit the Athosian in the side, yet unlike her opponent, Teyla was not slowed by the pain and brought her elbow down onto Dannella's back, making her cry out. Teyla then placed one of her legs between Dannella's, snaring the other woman's foot and spinning her about so that she was locked against Teyla's body by an arm around her neck. Dannella let out a choking gasp.

Teyla sneered at her. "You die for what you did."

"Be sensible," Dannella coughed, unsheathing a dagger concealed in the folds of fabric on her hip. Sheppard noticed the motion but called out a warning too late. "He isn't _worth_ it," Dannella spat, digging the blade into Teyla's thigh. Teyla cried out in surprise and pain but didn't relax her hold.  
Sheppard started forward. "Teyla!"

Teyla tightened her grip on Dannella's neck, making the other woman gasp and let go of the knife hilt to grab and claw at Teyla's arm as the Athosian applied more and more pressure, bruising and collapsing the muscles of her throat, blocking her airways. Dannella began to wheeze, her fingernails digging into Teyla's forearm, and the Athosian merely gritted her teeth in a primal snarl, her heart pumping adrenaline as she clamped down on her kill.

Sheppard watched with horror-tinged satisfaction as Dannella gave up the fight, her eyes rolling back before she eventually went limp. Teyla then released her, shoving her body away from hers, panting. She looked down to the blade in her thigh and screamed as she yanked it out. Sheppard jogged over, slowing to crouch and examine Teyla's leg, but Teyla ignored him, studying the bloodied blade in her hand and limping towards Dannella's body.

She stumbled onto her knees beside the other woman, raised the blade high, then slammed it down into her chest, sawing and cutting, her hands slick with blood. Sheppard felt himself growing faint as there were tearing sounds akin to those of ripping out pumpkin innards, until Dannella's heart was in Teyla's hand. Teyla set the muscle on Dannella's chest and stabbed the knife into it, pinning it to the corpse's breast.

Teyla then clumsily rose, wiping her hands on her pants to rid them of the blood, and limped over to Ronon. Curtis and Liliana watched with silence, their eyes larger than normal. Liliana reached out for Teyla's arm and helped the other woman sit beside her lover. Teyla locked eyes with her. "Thank you."

Liliana nodded. Sheppard dragged his eyes away from the gore of Teyla's vengeance and the sand ground beneath his boots as he approached the others – the only living beings in the stadium.

Teyla lifted Ronon's head into her lap, running the backs of her fingers over his clammy cheek. She looked to Liliana and didn't need to voice her question.

Liliana lifted Ronon's tunic to reveal the enraged wound that was seeping ravaging ill into his body. Teyla looked away, closing her eyes momentarily, having seen injuries infected as such in her village, recalling just how many of those wounded died. "...He is already unconscious..."

Liliana suddenly latched onto her hand. "Don't give up on him yet."

Teyla shook her head, her eyes tearing as she looked down at Ronon's haggard yet peaceful face, as if he were in a troubled sleep. "He is not going to wake up."

"Something else is wrong with him," Liliana clarified. "It isn't just the infection."

Teyla looked up at her. Sheppard furrowed his brow, crouching beside Teyla.

"His heart shouldn't be racing like this," Liliana continued.

"You think they gave him something?" Curtis asked. Liliana nodded.

Sheppard furrowed his brow. "You mean like a stimulant?"

Liliana nodded. "Something to make him lucid."

"To fight," Curtis injected, his voice disdainfully gruff.

Teyla trailed her fingertips through Ronon's curls on his temple, studying them with a small smile, having never seen them before.

"Alright," Sheppard grunted as he rose. "That's it." He turned on his radio, looking around at the open roof of the stadium. "Rodney, you there?"

"I'm here," came the slightly nasal reply.

"How you feel about taking her out for a spin?"

"What? Really?"

"We've got Ronon and he's in pretty bad shape. We could use a medevac. We're in this open-roofed coliseum thing..."

"And you expect me to land there?!"

Sheppard winced. "C'mon, Rodney. I know you can do it. You said you'd been practicing."

"Yeah, in simulations, but not a real Puddle Jumper."

"So this is your big test."

"I'll crash!"

Sheppard's voice rose. "Look, Rodney, Ronon's gonna die unless we get him back to Atlantis ASAP. He needs you."

There was silence for a moment then McKay bumbled out an answer. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll do my best."

"That's all I ask. You have a lock on our transmitters?"

"Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Good." He turned back to the others and helped them move Ronon to the side of the arena then cleared away the rest of the bodies to make room for the Jumper to land.

Sheppard had to smile as the small ship touched down without a hitch, Rodney's worried, concentrating face visible through the windshield. A little blonde head then popped up as Bo kneeled on the passenger's seat to look out and Sheppard smiled. She waved at her parents who smiled and waved back. Liliana then glanced to the pile of bodies to the side. "John... if you could..."

"Right." He pressed the button on his radio again. "Nice landing, Rodney."

"Really? I didn't squash anyone?"

"If you could keep the hobbit occupied that would be great. There're a few bodies out here her folks don't want her to see."

"Oh, yes, right, of course."

Sheppard could see him pivot to smile at Bo, asking her what looked to be "wasn't that fun?"

Curtis and Sheppard carried Ronon into the Jumper while Liliana helped Teyla limp after them. Bo furrowed her brow, peering into the back at Ronon as they set him down. "Is he hurt, papa?"

Curtis glanced to her. "Yeah, darling. He's sick so we've gotta take him back to his home to help him."

Bo got up to go see her friend but McKay attempted to distract her from the open back of the Jumper from which the bodies could be seen. "Hey, I didn't tell you what this button did yet." He pointed one out and Bo turned around, sitting back down in the passenger's seat. "This one cloaks the ship."

"A cloak?"

"Yeah, it makes it invisible."

Liliana and Teyla were almost inside the Jumper when a contingent of guards jogged into the arena, took quick notice of their dead comrades and the injured Athosian, then charged, withdrawing their prods. Teyla and Liliana hurried, but Teyla's leg gave out and she stumbled, taking them both down. "John!"

Sheppard looked away from Ronon to notice the advancing guards whipped out his pistol, aiming and firing, only to realize that he'd emptied his clip. "Damnit!" He lunged for his vest to get another another.

Bo had noticed the calamity and saw her mother and Teyla on the ground with bad men approaching. "Momma!"

Curtis was taking aim and shooting at some of the guards, but never having used a gun before today, his aim was shoddy at best. Liliana and Teyla struggled to rise and Bo spun back around to the controls, slamming her small hand down on a button before McKay could shout at her not to. The weapons on the rear of the Jumper fired to life and as Teyla saw their appendages extending, she yanked on Liliana. "Stay down!"

The two women covered the backs of their heads as drones shot out, cutting through several of the guards at once before continuing to blow up parts of the stadium and the surrounding walls. The surviving guards turned and ran. Liliana peeked up and helped Teyla to her feet as the two scrambled into the Jumper. McKay, Sheppard and Curtis all looked to Isabeau with surprised expressions that twisted into admiring smiles. Bo ignored them and ran to hug her mother after she'd helped Teyla into a seat and Liliana hugged her back, lifting her off the ground.

Sheppard shoved towards the pilot's seat as McKay shifted out of the way, closing the back of the ship and lifting off. Teyla was already going through a medical kit when McKay caught her attention. "Hey, look." He pointed below as they continued to rise. The blast had destroyed the walls of the holding cells below and Rashid's slaves were escaping, shouting to each other in celebration of their freedom. Teyla smiled a little then returned her attention to Ronon as she opened a package of gauze.

Liliana crouched beside her and lifted Ronon's tunic to expose the wound, warning her daughter that it wasn't easy to look at, then rested a hand on Ronon's forehead. She frowned. "He's cooling..."

Teyla looked to her. "Is that not a good sign?"

Liliana didn't answer, feeling Ronon's pulse, frigid fear settling in her stomach as she realized that his breath didn't tickle the hairs of her arm. "...He's not breathing."

Teyla froze, her heart skipping a beat then hammering wildly. "What?"

Sheppard glanced back at them, hearing the quietly startled voices. "What's wrong?"

Liliana suddenly yanked her fingers away from Ronon's neck. "His heart stopped!"

Sheppard almost immediately rose, barking at McKay to take his place, a course already plotted for the 'gate. He fell to his knees beside Ronon and checked his breathing and pulse himself before cursing under his breath when he couldn't find either. He tilted Ronon's chin back and breathed twice into his mouth before pressing his palms against the Satedan's chest and beginning compressions.

_**Please review!**_


	29. XXIX Warming

**_Author's Note:_** First off, my apologies for this chapter being so long in coming! I got caught up in all the responsibilities of grad school, and the more exciting process of starting to "break in" to Hollywood by winning screenplay awards, so I have been preoccupied! But rest assured that I'll definitely finish this story, as evidenced by the fact that I sat down and wrote this chapter today while I had time, though I feel pretty yucky since I am battling two viruses!

Also, I'm sorry that I don't have the time to personally respond to all your reviews. I'm already pressed for time and will have to just post and run, I'm afraid, but _thank you all so very, very much for your kindness and encouragement!_

_Consider this a holiday gift to you all! Much love and may the season bring you much laughter and light!_

**XXVIV. Warming**

Teyla closed her eyes, twin tears slipping down her cheeks before she tilted her chin and opened her eyes again, studying the high ceiling of the hallway outside of the infirmary. Dr. Keller shouted from inside and nurses bustled to and fro, dashing in and out of the room. Sheppard, McKay and the Espens were in the hall with her, nervously glancing into the infirmary every once in a while, but Teyla didn't dare look behind her. The shouts and bustling noises alone were too much for her to bear, so instead she focused her mind on what she could do to help.

Ronon's heart had stopped beating even after being defibrillated twice. Dr. Keller and her team were doing all they could to release the hold the drug had on the Satedan's body, but Teyla knew that without the identity of the herb in his system, their chances of administering an antidote in time were slim to none.

Ronon's heart wasn't beating. His body was dead. If it truly were his time to leave now, the least she could do was to make his passage from this life to the next easier by singing his death song.

So she gazed above and let the tears slip down her cheeks and she sang.

"In the starlight I wander

Longing to hold you."

The others looked to her sudden song, listening with melancholy eyes.

"In the stars' eyes I feel you

Watching me always.

Your soul and my heart,

They speak to each other.

Your song in my heart

Will go on forever."

Her lower lip quivered as she finished the song, closing her eyes. She felt a weight on her shoulder, then a squeeze, and knew by instinct that it was Sheppard's hand. He didn't remove it as they waited for what felt like hours.

Someone cleared their throat. Teyla and Sheppard looked up to see Keller standing meekly before them. She offered a small smile in greeting then her face slipped back into its previous apologetic look. "We've managed to stabilize him for the time being."

Both Teyla and Sheppard's shoulders sagged in relief and the Espens rose.

"But..." Keller continued, halting with apprehension. "His body's still struggling to cope with the drug they used."

Sheppard furrowed his brow. "Well, is he gonna be okay or not?"

"At this point, I don't know. The bad news is that I haven't been able to come up with an antidote yet. But the good news is that the drug seems to be being absorbed. The last scan shows less of it than when he first arrived."

Teyla nodded, the movement stiff. "May we see him?"

Keller beckoned them in. "Sure, he's just... not conscious."

The five shuffled into the room, followed by the doctor. Teyla let out a breath as she saw Ronon lying in the hospital bed, a tube down his throat, taped to his mouth to help him breathe and wires and more tubing attached to his arms and chest. Though she knew the technology was keeping him alive, she loathed its presence.

Sheppard bit the inside of his lip and took one of Ronon's hands. "You hang in there, buddy, you hear me?"

Liliana picked up Bo so that she could see her wounded friend. She furrowed her brow at the tube in his mouth. "What is that, Momma?"

"I think it's to help him breathe, sweet pea."

Keller smiled at the little girl. "I know it looks scary but it's actually helping him."

Bo nodded, returning her attention to Ronon. He was pale and looked so very tired. No one spoke, and Bo didn't like that the machines were louder than the people.

* * *

Teyla's eyes were stinging. She let out a shuddering sigh and closed her eyes, letting the tired burn diffuse into relaxation. She should stop reading for the night. She should do some stretches to relieve the cramps and aches in her muscles from sitting in a chair all day. She should start regularly exercising again... yet every time she resolved to go for a run or visit the gym, the fear that Ronon would either slip away or wake up while she was gone returned. She'd argued with herself like this for nearly a month.

She turned the page in her copy of _Treasure Island_ then began reading aloud once more. Ronon lay beside her, just as motionless as he had been when they brought him to the infirmary after rescuing him from Rashid's fight ring. The breathing tube had been removed after his body became stable once more and he now appeared to be in a deep sleep. His face and eyes were still and peaceful, unlike other coma patients that she'd seen over her life. After the first week of his stillness, Dr. Keller began to lose confidence in his ever waking up again. His body was healing and wasting away at the same time. Teyla felt caught in limbo with him.

And so she read to him, every day, hoping that he could hear her voice, that he would know he was not alone... that tales of adventure might wake up his wounded mind. Yet he did not stir, and the scans showed no improvement in his brain activity. Teyla had already read herself hoarse with _The Three Musketeers_ and _The Count of Monte Cristo_, so she thought she'd take up Sheppard's third suggestion and give pirates a try. There was no change, not that she expected Ronon to wake up from a sudden interest in buried treasure, and she was beginning to agonize over the gnawing fear that she would soon have to give in to acceptance once the book was finished, and read to him no more.

* * *

Another week crept past. Keller smiled as she finished binding the ankle of a biologist who had missed the "Caution: Wet Floor" sign and had slipped in the hallways. "All set. Remember to take your Ibuprofen on the clock and you should be walking again in no time."

The woman sighed and nodded. "So much for hiking on Saturday..."

Keller smiled again and patted her shoulder. "Just keep it elevated as much as you can to get the swelling down. Maybe next Saturday." She winked as the woman slid off the bed and grabbed her crutches.

"Thank you, Dr. Keller."

"Of course."

Keller began to clean up the extra supplies as the woman left. She glanced across the room as she did so. Her shoulders slumped. Teyla was asleep, her head and arms resting on Ronon's chest.

Keller stepped over to the other woman, glancing at the stack of finished books on the bedside table, the most recent appearing to be _Treasure Island_. She briefly looked to her patient, noting the familiar sight of his still, waning form, before looking back to Teyla. She gently shook the Athosian's shoulder. "Hey."

Teyla sucked in a lungful of air, straightening, reaching up to smooth her hair off her cheek. "Oh, I was asleep..."

Keller smiled. "You should go back to your quarters. You'll be more comfortable."

Teyla momentarily closed her eyes. "Yes." She smiled in thanks.

Keller returned the smile and squeezed the Athosian's shoulder before stepping back over to the other bed across the room, finishing putting away the supplies.

Teyla closed her eyes and arched her back in a stretch for a moment then looked back to Ronon with a sigh. She slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze before smiling and rising, leaning over to kiss his forehead. "Sweet dreams, my love."

She glanced behind her for anything she may have forgotten, then sucked in a startled gasp of air when she felt two of Ronon's fingers curl in her hand. She looked back to him, furrowing her brow. She held her hand very still, her fingers lightly cupping his, beginning to think she must have imagined the featherlight tug. She placed her other hand on top of his in her palm and studied his face. "...Ronon?"

His expression was as sunken and serene as it had been for weeks. There was no change. His hand must have slipped in hers. Teyla sighed and lowered his hand back down to the sheets, squeezing it one last time, waiting for a response. Nothing. She let go and tucked her hair back behind her ears, mentally scolding herself for having gotten her hopes up for the thousandth time, when the sheets shadowed. She blinked and looked again. Small wrinkles caught the light, creating shadowed furrows. Small wrinkles that were not there a heartbeat before. Ronon's fingers had tugged on the sheets.

Teyla dropped to her knees and studied the fabric and his hand, her eyes rapt for any movement. Then his ring finger twitched, creating another crease in the sheets. The small wrinkles in the white fabric might as well have been as large as sand dunes to Teyla.

* * *

People were moving around him, but he was too tired to care. Voices were calling out his name, asking him questions. He could hear them, but he could only hold on to what they said for a few fleeting moments before the meaning of their words sifted away on a sigh from his tired mind. He needed the escape; he needed to let himself slip back into that comfortable void of thoughtlessness. But something kept tugging on his senses, yanking him back from the brink of a quiet rest.

The questions had stopped. The shifting light that he knew was movement around him had stilled. He had every reason to find the solitude to sleep again... every reason except for one. A voice lulled him towards the light of wakefulness. A touch reminded him of life.

"Now that the time has come  
Soon gone is the day  
There upon some distant shore  
You'll hear me say

Long as the day in the summer time  
Deep as the wine dark sea  
I'll keep your heart with mine.  
Till you come to me..."

Teyla sang, combing her fingers through his hair. His shoulder twitched, as it had moments before, and she smiled at the sign of wakefulness, continuing her song.

"There like a bird I'd fly  
High through the air  
Reaching for the sun's full rays  
Only to find you there

And in the night when our dreams are still  
Or when the wind flows free  
I'll keep your heart with mine  
Till you come to me."

She paused in her song, letting out a gasping grin as she saw the first pale green slits of his eyes as they opened, sleepy and cat-like in their lethargy. She felt her throat tauten as her eyes stung with tears. She continued her song.

"Now that the time has come  
Soon gone is the day  
There upon some distant shore  
You'll hear me say

Long as the day in the summer time  
Deep as the wine dark sea  
I'll keep your heart with mine.  
Till you come to me."

Teyla grinned, tears slipping down her cheeks, as she gazed into Ronon's waking eyes, flickering with a light of recognition as he gazed back at her. She thought her heart might break when his mouth formed a feeble smile, his eyes scrunching up a little. She raked her fingers through his hair above his ear, sniffling so that she could speak. "Ronon... do you know me?"

_Of course. Of course I know you_. Ronon struggled to use his voice, to respond to assuage the worry creeping into her eyes as she saw the muscles in his throat flex and relax voicelessly. Yet no sound came.

She ran her fingers through his hair again, the longing in his eyes managing to answer for him. She smiled again, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, and he could feel the moisture from her tears kiss his skin. "It is all right," she quietly cooed. She cupped his cheek and pressed her nose against his, closing her eyes. "It is all right... we have each other again."

Though he could not yet master his voice to speak, his steady, warm breath on her neck was all Teyla needed to shut out the rest of the world, hearing only their beating hearts.

Keller soon gave up on her questioning after she belatedly realized that Teyla couldn't hear her. The blonde smiled and stepped back, giving the two more time in peace.

* * *

"How's your number one patient doing?" Sheppard asked with a smile as he stepped into the infirmary.

Keller looked up at him from the chart she was filling out. She glanced over her shoulder towards Ronon's bed. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

"I think I'll do that." He tossed the small, wrapped gift in his hands and strolled around the corner to Ronon's bed.

The Satedan was awake and looked pleasantly tired, listening to the Espens catch him up on the gossip from their household. Teyla was seated by his side, holding his hand. Sheppard smirked at the scene. A small, fake Christmas tree had been set up on the end table by Ronon's bed. Briana fingered a shiny bauble ornament before returning her attention to Isabeau, correcting something her younger sister said.

Sheppard stepped over with a smile. "Looks like a party's started without me."

"Eh," Ronon grunted with a smirk, a light in his eyes. "Who needs you anyway, Sheppard?"

Sheppard chuckled and set his package down beneath the tree, beside one already left by Rodney. Teyla smiled in silent thanks for the gift.

Curtis observed the exchange. "Well, if I'd have known you folks also celebrated Wintertide, I would've brought something."

"It's just an excuse to give the big guy presents," Sheppard responded. He winked at Ronon and lightly punched his shoulder. "How ya doing?"

Ronon cleared his throat a little. "Good."

"He ate everything on his tray at lunch," Teyla said, giving Ronon a playful look.

Liliana snorted. "I can't believe that's an accomplishment. He ate enough for two when he was with us."

"Hey," the Satedan croaked. "If you hadn't worked me like a slave, I wouldn't've been so hungry."

"Speaking of which," Curtis said, raising his brows. "When you think you'll be back on your feet? I'm hurting out there without you. I got real spoiled having you around to help out."

"Curtis," Ronon sighed with a small smile. He opened his mouth to continue but Curtis cut him off.

"I know, I know. You can't even walk yet. I was just teasing you."

"Actually, I was gonna say that you've always been a lazy bastard, but that too."

Liliana gasped and playfully swatted him as they all laughed. Teyla shook her head in mock incredulity, so delighted to see such life and spirit ever returning to Ronon's eyes and voice.

Bo was studying the small tree and swiveled her head to look at the Air Force colonel. "Why did you put that tree there? Teyla and Ronon said you'd know."

Sheppard glanced at the couple then looked back to Isabeau. "Uh... it's a part of our holiday called... Christmas."

"What's Christmas?"

Sheppard studied the child for a moment then glanced around to see if Keller was anywhere nearby to help him out. No native earthlings were in sight. He looked back to Isabeau and noticed that the eyes of all the other aliens were upon him as well. "It's a day when we celebrate the birth of a very special baby, named Jesus, who grew up to... help a lot of people."

"Oh," Bo said. "So it's a birthday."

"Um, not exactly... he wasn't really born on Christmas. We just kind of... pretend he was so that we can celebrate it then."

Teyla had her brow furrowed. Ronon looked painfully confused and piped up in his slightly scratchy voice "...Why not just celebrate it on his actual birthday?"

"Because December 25th was already a big holiday and... you know how it is. People get used to partying at a certain time and you don't wanna ruin their fun by changing everything."

"So... instead you just... fake it?" Ronon still sounded confused.

Sheppard sighed. "Look, this was a long time ago, I'm not entirely sure how it all happened."

Bo pointed to the tree. "And he liked trees?"

"I don't know," Sheppard struggled on. "He probably did. I don't know how many trees were around where he lived... it was kinda the desert..."

"The evergreen tree is a symbol of everlasting life," Teyla chimed in, sparing Sheppard his ignorance. "Many other trees lose their leaves in the winter, however the evergreen tree does not. It remains green. Ancient peoples of earth adorned such trees with symbols of light to welcome the longer days that would grow after the solstice – the return of light, from what I understand. So the tree is brought into the home to celebrate the process of rebirth," she paused as she looked to Sheppard. "Is that not correct, John?"

Sheppard blinked and cleared his throat. "Yeah... where'd you learn all that, Teyla?"

"She's a genius. She knows everything," Ronon cut in.

Teyla gave him a playful look then returned her attention to Sheppard. "I was confused when I spent my first winter here – Dr. Weir loaned me a book on the history."

Sheppard nodded. "...I need to read that."

Curtis chuckled and patted Sheppard on the back.

"Okay," Keller's teacher-like voice cut through the merriment. "That's enough excitement for one day."

Liliana leaned over to kiss Ronon's cheek. "You're welcome to come over as soon as you feel up to it, sweetie."

"Yeah!" Bo enthused. "Sniffer really misses you, too."

"She does wait on the front porch a lot," Brianna added, looking pensive.

Ronon raised his brows. "I'll have to surprise her one of these days."

Curtis playfully bopped the Satedan's foot. "You do that."

Ronon smiled and hugged the family goodbye as they shuffled out. Sheppard rested a hand on Liliana's back and told her that he'd be happy to fly them back home. "Seeya soon," he called to Ronon and Teyla as he exited.

Keller raised her brows as the group filed past then looked back to Ronon. "Well aren't you just Mr. Popular?"

Ronon had a wistful smile one his face. "They're good people... the best people."

Keller smiled. "I'll bring you your dinner in an hour." She winked at Teyla then headed back to her office.

Ronon sighed heavily and Teyla could tell how much a simple visit with loved ones took out of him. She watched him study the ceiling, his eyes roving with restlessness. "I know it is frustrating, Ronon, but you will soon be back to yourself."

"Yeah..." he sighed. He looked back to her face and his eyes slowly began to smile at her before he bashfully blinked away.

She furrowed her brow and cocked her head. "What?"

"I don't know..." He picked at the railing of the bed instead of looking at her.

Teyla smirked and poked his shoulder. "You most certainly do."

He chuckled a little and looked back to her, his cheeks a little flushed. Teyla couldn't help but grin. "I don't know..." he continued, sounding as guilty as a child who had broken something and feigned innocence.

"All right. If you do not want to tell me, then I suppose I should not want to hear." She let go of his hand and looked away from him with a smug expression then grabbed _The Hobbit_ and pretended to be reading it.

Ronon laughed quietly and reached out his hand to her, yet the Athosian continued to playfully ignore him.

"Teyla."

She turned a page, cocking her head in mock interest in the words on the page.

He tried whining out her name as if she were his mother. "Teylaaaaaa."

She shot him an annoyed look over the top of her book.

Ronon smiled. "I love you."

Teyla shook her head with a laugh, her own cheeks coloring.

Ronon laughed as well. "You're blushing."

Teyla looked back to him, her face and voice indignant. "I am _not_."

"Oh, yes you are."

"Ronon Dex – "

"Are you gonna blush every time I say 'I love you'?"

She attempted to fix him with a stern, chastising look but only managed a goofy glare, blushing more. The further tint to her cheeks only made him laugh until he was interrupted by coughs. Teyla then hastily reached for a water glass and handed it to him.

"Thank you."

She nodded and watched him drink, then took the cup from him and set it aside. "You should rest."

He nodded, scooting down further in the bed to get more comfortable.

Teyla reached over and helped arrange the blankets to tuck him in. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Teyla, for all your help."

She smiled and kissed his forehead before resuming her seat beside his bed.

He watched her pick up her copy of _The Hobbit_ again. "You don't have to stay down here."

Her eyes locked onto his. "There is nowhere else I would rather be, Ronon."

Her words trickled through him like warm water and his eyes shone with an adoring light as he studied her for several long heartbeats. "You wanna know what I was thinking earlier?"

Teyla smiled. "Only if you want me to."

"I was thinking about how much quicker I'll heal with you here to help me. Just seeing your eyes remind me to always do the best that I can."

Her heart constricted and she set the book aside, climbing into the bed with him to lie on one hip, slipping an arm under his neck and shoulders and tucking his curls back behind his ear with her other hand. "I am not going anywhere, Ronon." She leaned down so that the tip of her nose brushed against his. "My heart is right here."

He smiled and tilted his chin enough to kiss her lips for a moment, draping an arm on her hip. He could feel her breath against his forehead as he nestled his cheek against her shoulder, sighing contentedly, his body and heart warming from her nearness.

**_Please review!_**


	30. XXX Ghosting

**_Author's Note:_** My apologies for yet another long absence! Now that school is out for the summer, I intend to finish this! :) Thank you all for your lovely reviews! Much love!

**XXX. Ghosting**

Several people passed Teyla and Ronon in the hall, many preoccupied with conversation and getting to their destinations on time, hardly sparing the two Pegasus Galaxy natives a second glace. Ronon leaned a shoulder against the wall and closed his eyes, catching his breath. Teyla squeezed his hand, studying the thin lines between his brows, the sweat glittering in his hairline. She noticed an exit nearby and tugged on his arm. He opened his eyes and looked to her and her smile began to calm his speeding heart. Her gaze said "follow me," and so he did.

Teyla guided the tall Satedan to the exit and out onto the balcony. The sun was sinking towards the horizon in the distance and a chilly breeze blew, giving her goosebumps. She spied a bench a few feet away, its sides hemmed in by the walls of Atlantis, shielding it from the wind. The two made their way over and sat down. Teyla hugged Ronon's arm, resting her cheekbone against his shoulder as they warmed in the sunlight, studying the ever-shifting shades of the sea before them. She could feel Ronon's pulse slowing and rubbed his forearm. The two had gone on many such walks over the past week as Ronon slowly rebuilt the muscle of his legs that had waned in the month he'd spent unconscious.

His voice would have startled her had it not emanated more from his chest than his lips. "I'd almost forgotten what it looked like..."

"Atlantis?"

He shook his head a little. "I never would've thought that I'd feel at home surrounded by so much water, no land in sight."

Teyla smiled a little. "Nor did I." She sighed, straightening. "When I was a little girl, I also never thought that I would leave my village, let alone lead my people to an entirely new world."

He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer so that their hips touched. He pressed his lips against her temple and waited a moment before kissing her, taking in sweetly sour scent of her hair and the milk of her skin.

She could feel his breath against her, and the simple, silent reminder of his strength and love made her close her eyes. She remembered quiet, panted breaths in the barracks as they made love. She remembered blood shed in a field. She remembered the weakness of his fevered gaze after the crack of the whip. She opened her eyes as he kissed her. "Ronon?"

"Hmm?"

"We had a child."

She heard his breathing stop for a moment, his body stiffening. "...What?" He pulled away to be able to see her face.

Teyla slipped her hand in his and met his confused green eyes with her sturdy brown. "I did not know until after I thought you were dead." Her voice began to waver and he squeezed her hand. "I knew inciting rebellion was a great risk, but I could not let our child be born into slavery. And I fought, Ronon." She shook her head a little, tears beginning to moisten her cheeks. "I fought."

He reached out and cupped her face, brushing one of her tears away with his thumb, leaning in, his voice a whisper. "It's all right, Teyla... it's all right."

"There was a driver," she continued in a rushed gasp. "Named Cartman – the one who whipped you. Before I killed him, he managed to strike me several times. I remember he hit me in the abdomen..." She closed her eyes, more tears escaping. "He died by my hand, but not without wounding us both."

Ronon pulled her into a hug, tugging her onto his lap. She sniffled as she rested her hips atop his, laying her cheek against his shoulder. Ronon's throat was tightening, his eyes stinging as he rubbed her back, struggling to wrap his mind around how very different their lives could have been. "It's not your fault, Teyla."

"Yes, it is."

"Teyla – "

"I should not have been so reckless when I knew – "

"No." He combed his fingers through her hair, feeling her tears seeping into the fabric of his shirt, kissing his skin. "You did the right thing. And I'm so very proud of you."

Teyla pulled away to look Ronon in the eye. "But we could have had a child, Ronon. A daughter or a son."

"I know." His voice was quiet and he tucked her hair behind her ears. "But if that's the price we had to pay to be together again, then so be it."

She furrowed her brow, searching the assuredness of his eyes.

"Don't get me wrong," he added. "I would love to have a baby with you. It just..." His eyes momentarily trailed away from hers, lost in the memory of smoke and blood and the desperate voices of slaves. He looked back to Teyla. "It wasn't our time." He brushed another tear off her cheek, not noticing his own escaping. "Maybe, if we're lucky, we'll get another chance. But right now, I'm just so thankful that I have you." He pulled her into another hug.

Teyla wrapped her arms around his ribs, still hating how near to his skin they were. She was quiet for several long moments as she listened to his heart and let his words warm her spirit, taking the edge off of some of the pain, even if only for the time being. "I am glad that you know... bearing the weight alone..."

"Was something you never should've had to do."

She closed her eyes, her breath no longer hitching in her chest as her tears slowed.

"And something I never want you to have to do again." He kissed the top of her head and she found herself smiling a little, wondering at his words, never having thought that she'd ever trust another enough to believe such a pledge.

"I wish the same for you, Ronon." She rubbed his shoulder. "You have borne so much for so long... My heart would break to see you face your demons alone." She straightened, taking his hand in hers and resting it against her heart with a small smile. "Let us share what we have found with those we love."

Amusement danced in Ronon's eyes. "You mean a bonding ceremony?" Teyla nodded. Ronon returned her butterfly's flutter of a smile and held her hand against his heart, as well. "I would be honored." Her smile grew and she leaned in and kissed him. But as his lips pressed against hers, a cold dread crept up from his stomach and soured his hopes for their future as suddenly as it had appeared.

* * *

The weeks slipped past and Ronon continued to steadily regain his strength, walking with ease and soon going for runs once more with Sheppard. Teyla was delighted by his progress, yet with the mending of his muscles came a distance from his heart. When he was well enough to leave the infirmary and return to his quarters he did so without ever asking Teyla if she wanted to share his bed. She felt his muscles begin to flinch when she would touch him unexpectedly, and he was often watching and listening for sights and sounds that she knew he no longer had to fear. On several mornings he came to breakfast late, mumbling about a bad night's sleep as his explanation. When she would bring up any planning for the bonding ceremony, his eyes flickered and wavered, as if he were faking his smiles. Teyla couldn't help but notice that Ronon had begun to pull away shortly after she told him about her miscarriage.

Guilt began to gnaw on her psyche, renewing its vigor, and when it was too much to bear, she didn't share it with Ronon as promised, but instead twisted in her sheets alone, weeping and biting her knuckles until she exhausted her emotions into slumber. Ronon was fading in front of her and there was nothing she could do to stop him, for she feared she was the source of his glances that shied away.

* * *

Sheppard looked at Ronon as he wiped his face off with a towel, still catching his breath from a run with the Satedan. "You've been quiet lately."

Ronon glanced to him then tossed his own towel onto a bench beside their lockers. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh.'"

Seemingly thinking twice about his action, Ronon picked up his towel and busied himself folding it.

Sheppard saw the action for what it was: avoidance. "You wanna talk about it?"

"About what?" Ronon cleared his throat.

"About it."

Ronon looked to him then. "What's 'it'?"

Sheppard shrugged, taking a gulp from his water bottle, the air surging past the plastic letting out a quiet hiss. "I don't know. Whatever the 'it' is."

Ronon furrowed his brows then looked away, grabbing his own water bottle.

Sheppard sighed. "Look, what I'm trying to say is, if you ever wanna talk, I'm here for you."

Ronon swallowed. "We are talking."

"Not this kind of talking. You know what I mean." Sheppard peeled off his sweaty shirt and grabbed a fresh one from his locker.

"You mean the kind of talking with a point," Ronon said as he sat down on the bench. His tank top clung to the slowly thickening muscles of his lean frame, drenched in sweat, and Sheppard noticed that Ronon never changed his shirt in front of him anymore. He knew the Satedan didn't want him to gawk at the deforming scars on his back.

Sheppard sighed, adjusting his new shirt. "You just seem a little gloomy. When you first woke up and were getting better, you and Teyla were so happy. What the hell happened? Did you guys fight or something?"

Ronon stood up. "No."

"Then what's going wrong?"

Ronon strode past Sheppard. "Nothing."

Sheppard fought the urge to roll his eyes and pivoted to face the exiting man. "I know you've been through hell but don't tell me you're – "

"Shut up, Sheppard."

There was a snarl in Ronon's voice as he snapped over his shoulder, a tension in his spine as he stalked out of the locker room that reminded Sheppard of a tiger. He made sure to avoid Ronon the rest of the day.

* * *

Ronon sat on his bed, dropping his head into his hands. He felt like he was hot, but he wasn't. He felt as if people were watching him when they weren't. Shadows were tricksters. He had begun to obsessively check behind the shower curtain, under the bed, and just outside the door to make sure no one was hiding there. It wasn't fair. Fear fluttered within him like a startled raven, taking flight at the mildest triggers.

His sheets were stained with night sweats and he would wake up wanting to hurt himself. He locked the door leading to his balcony, afraid of the allure of the height and the plummet to the sea. Teyla's voice reminded him of fingers crawling on his skin like worms, taking him from himself, stealing his screams with kisses. A part of him knew Teyla deserved better, that he should apologize, but he couldn't help himself. The love and worry in Teyla's eyes reminded him of what a liar he was. Of what a terrible person he was. Of how he had failed her.

He rose from the bed, crossing to the bathroom for the second time since he'd returned from the evening meal. The shower curtain hung where it always had, it's white fabric as boring as ever. Ronon swiped it to the side, finding momentary relief when he was greeted with the sight of his empty shower. He let the curtain fall back into place and strode out of the bathroom. Then the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise and he looked over his shoulder. Had that wrinkle in the curtain been there before? Someone must have slipped behind it when he turned his back!

Ronon crossed the bathroom in two strides and yanked the curtain back, sneering at his soap and shampoo bottles and the silent laughter of a ghost. With a growl, he yanked the curtain and rod off the shower, letting them clatter into the tub, their clank and clang echoing in the small room.

Then he heard someone hurrying through the main room and his hackles rose. He dashed out to intercept the ghost that had escaped the shower without his noticing, but instead of a ghost his chest smacked into Teyla. He'd already grabbed her shoulders by the time he recognized her. He shoved her away from him with a frustrated groan.

Teyla stumbled backwards, her shoulders aching from his vice-like grip, her expression incredulous. "Ronon!"

Ronon had stalked past her and was now looking down either end of the hallway outside.

Teyla watched him through her tousled hair, trying to stave off the pain in her throat.

He stepped back into the room and pressed the key to shut the door, looking to her with an accusatory glare. "What the hell were you doing here?"

Teyla hesitated, taking a moment to catch her breath and brush some of the hair away from her face, making no move to near him. "I... I heard you scream. I heard a bang."

Ronon panted, his furrowed brows slowly relaxing as he caught his breath, his voice still suspicious.

"I was worried – "

"I was fine."

Teyla cocked her head, no longer able to keep the pain in her throat at bay as she noticed the way Ronon's restless eyes resembled a coyote's. Her voice was firm. "You hurt me, Ronon."

Ronon blinked, studying her for any obvious signs of harm. "You startled me."

Teyla narrowed her eyes, taking a step towards him. "That does not make it right, Ronon."

He swallowed hard, his face relaxing, beginning to finally resemble that of the man she loved.

"What is going on with you?"

He shifted, glancing about jerkily. "Nothing."

"Do not lie to me." She took another step towards him then paused when he took a step backwards. A line formed between her brows at his defensive action. "I am not going to hurt you back."

He didn't respond and the tension in his shoulders told her that he didn't believe her.

She kept her eyes glued on him as she slowly stepped past, making her way for the bathroom. Ronon had cornered himself between the bed and the wall and didn't move, tracking her movements like a hawk. Teyla peered into the bathroom, saw the dismantled shower curtain, then looked back to Ronon. He appeared even tenser than before, his neck stiff and his eyes rounded with child-like timidity in a way that she had rarely seen them. The line between her brows deepened as she gestured to the curtain. "What are you doing?"

He shifted his gaze to look past her into the bathroom then looked back to her displeased expression, his lips showing no sign of answering.

Teyla raised her brows, infusing her voice with an anger that had been festering for weeks. "Ronon?"

The movement was minute, but he shifted his weight. His thumbnail picked at the seam of his trousers. He sounded like he needed to clear his throat. "Someone... might have been behind that."

"In the shower?"

The hesitancy in his nod told her that he was realizing how ridiculous the whole thing sounded.

Her mouth formed a firm line as she studied him, her nostrils flaring. The irrationality of his behavior and his pathetic excuses were wearing on her thinning patience. The light in his eyes was dimming, slowly replaced by a manic energy. She shook her head. "There is _no one_ hunting you, Ronon."

He blinked, his shoulders relaxing a little. "I know."

"No. I do not think you do." She stepped towards him again and his shoulders tensed once more. She paid them no heed. "I love you, Ronon, but every day I see less and less of you. One day soon I will not be able to recognize you anymore." A worried look spread over his face as she spoke. "Now, I am sorry that these terrible things have happened to you. If I could take them all from you, I would. But if you resent me for losing our child, just say it for I can no longer bear the silence from you."

Ronon's brows twitched together and his lips parted and moved silently for a heartbeat. She thought he'd mouthed the word "I," but then he stopped trying.

The relentless strength of Teyla's eyes continued to bore into him, demanding further explanation, but he deflated under her gaze and gave none.

Teyla shook her head, her eyes stinging with tears. "Then I have nothing more to say to you, Ronon Dex. I see that I lost you on that plantation after all." She turned away before he could see her shed her tears, but he didn't need to. He knew all the same. She strode out of the room and Ronon remained where he was long after the doors had swooshed shut behind her. Shame burned his cheeks, terror gripped his heart, and the shadows cackled, ghosting past, with Danella's voice.

**_Please review!_**


	31. XXXI Lightning

**XXXI. Lightning**

Sheppard ate his meal, ignoring McKay who was seated across from him, rambling off his newest list of complaints against Zalekna and his suspicions that Dr. Keller and three other women on the science team might be in love with him. Teyla was eating alone, taking her time, poking at her food with a despondency he was unused to. She had regained most of the weight she had lost while a slave, yet it still bothered him to see the majority of her meal still on her plate. He cleared his throat. "Just a minute, Rodney."

McKay blinked at him, his eyes wide as Sheppard rose. "I'm sorry – what?"

Sheppard grabbed his tray and stepped away from the table.

"Oh, I get it," McKay continued with a smug expression. "You can't take much more evidence of my fan club because it makes you jealous – is that it?"

Sheppard tried to hide his expression that looked as if he'd just seen Caldwell tap dance while waiting in line at the cafeteria. "Uh, yeah... sure."

"I thought as much." McKay slowly shook his head. "You really need to learn how to handle people, Sheppard."

"I'll... work on that..." Sheppard stepped over to Teyla while McKay returned to his lunch. Teyla didn't notice the colonel until he set his tray down beside hers. "Mind if I sit here?"

She sucked in a breath, shaking her head as if breaking out of a reverie. "No, of course not."

Sheppard slid into the seat across from her then took a bite of his salad. "So – what's new with you?"

Teyla merely eyed him, looking confused.

Sheppard chewed then swallowed. "I mean what you been up to lately? I haven't seen you with Ronon at all in the past week so I figure you guys must be pretty busy with other stuff."

Teyla looked down at her plate and stabbed some lettuce. "Yes, well... I fear adjusting to life in Atlantis again has been... difficult."

Sheppard considered this as he chewed, studying Teyla. "I can only imagine." Teyla offered him a weak smile then returned her gaze to her food, poking at it some more. Sheppard took a sip of his milk. "But you and Ronon – seemed like you guys had a good thing going. Everything still all right? I noticed he's been a little grumpy lately."

Teyla sighed and tucked some of her loose hair behind her ear. "No, it is not all right, and if you do not mind, I would prefer to speak of something else."

Sheppard nodded, his eyes a little wide. "Of course. Sorry."

Teyla ignored him and set her fork down, giving up on eating.

Sheppard cleared his throat. "But you know... he could always talk to the psychologist. There are lots of ways to cope with what you two have been through. And we're all here for you, Teyla." He reached out and rested his hand on top of the Athosian's. "We want to help."

Teyla smiled sadly. "Thank you, John."

He squeezed her hand. "You're welcome."

Her eyes, tinged with regret, didn't leave his. "But there is nothing you or I can do."

* * *

Ronon leaned against the railing, the wind whipping his loose curls about his face as he gazed at the churning seawater below. Liliana studied him, massaging the palms of her hands. Sheppard had contacted her the day before and had flown her to the city that afternoon. The Satedan's nervous energy and submissive eyes were tearing at her composure. "Would you like to come back and live with us for a while?"

Ronon didn't look at her but continued to study the waves that thrashed against the piers of Atlantis, heralding a storm. He slowly shook his head no, concentrating on the coldness of the metal railing against his skin and the prickling of his flesh in the chilly air, taking pleasure in the sensation of weakness.

"Well," Liliana continued. "If you change your mind, please know that our home is always open to you."

Ronon still refused to look at her, so Liliana crossed the distance between them and hugged his arm. She noticed how stiff he was and sighed, resting her cheek against his shoulder. She stood beside him for a long time, her blonde wisps of her hair whipping about, loosening from her braid. At length she realized that Ronon was watching the white caps furl and disappear on the distant combers, and so she, too, studied the way the water churned from green to blue to grey under the reflections of the bruised clouds. There was the distant rumble of thunder, and Ronon's eyes came alive in the flicker of lightning in the belly of the clouds on the horizon.

He had slowly relaxed against her and she squeezed his arm. The energy in the air, the whip of the wind and the tumultuous power of the storm simultaneously reminded her of his heart and of how very small they both were. Many storms such as this had blown over the sea in the past, and many more would rage long after they were gone. They were blessed to witness the slow unfurling of the wild's mighty voice while they could.

Liliana was so lost in thought that she almost believed Ronon's voice to be in her mind, rather than outside. It made little difference either way. "Lives are like lightning." She didn't ask him to elaborate and didn't move from her position at his side, feeling the muted pulse in his arm. He was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. "Never the same. Only seconds. Surrounded by a storm... power." Liliana watched the flickering light that neared and knew that Ronon was rejoicing in the danger. "Where do you think happens after we die?"

She was quiet for a moment then cleared her throat. "I don't know." She could feel his body let out the mildest of sighs, as if he'd hoped for a different answer. "Some people believe in an afterlife... others believe in nothingness."

Ronon shifted and she could tell he was looking at her. "What do you believe?"

The thunder rolled over the water as the front of the storm approached, bringing the border of expectation and unknowable, boundless beauty ever closer. "I have faith." He shifted again and she knew he was looking away from her once more, his motion stiff with annoyance. She continued anyway. "Everything comes and goes, Ronon. Everything moves in a circle. Bird's nests... planets... the wild, twisting winds on the plains – they're all circles, and circles have no beginning or end. If it's an end that you're worried about... well, there's nothing in our lives to hint at an end. Nothing just ends. When water evaporates it becomes rain." Ronon was studying the railing and she knew he was listening intently. She looked up at his face, distantly registering the pitter patter of rain beginning to fall. "Do you know what the one constant in life is?"

His green eyes locked onto hers. "Death?"

She shook her head. "Change."

Ronon furrowed his brow.

"That's all death is, Ronon. It's just change. Everything is always changing, always renewing, always cycling."

Ronon sighed and looked back out to the storm. "You mean our bodies. They fertilize the soil – I know. I've heard it all before when I was growing up."

Liliana shook her head. "You know there's more to you than a body. You could give someone else the same body as you and they would be a different person. That difference is you." He looked back to her and she offered him a smile, squeezing his arm. "And you're a beautiful person, Ronon. That will always be a part of your life in this world and the next."

He furrowed his brow. "The next?"

"Where were you before you were born?"

"Nowhere."

Liliana cocked her head. "Where's nowhere?"

He hesitated. "I don't know."

"You were you. You were born and welcomed by your family, who you didn't know, but they had come before you. It's the same when we die – we change, and are welcomed by our family. You didn't know you were going to be born, or at least you don't remember knowing, just as you don't know what will happen once you die, or at least you don't remember what will happen. But you look at the world around you, and how everything moves in a circle, and you start to understand that despite your greatest fears, your body, and your soul – your spirit – will come again. It is not something to fear."

"Yes it is." He hesitated and neither of them noticed the gaining strength of the rain. "Why would I want to keep being born into suffering? I would rather just end."

Liliana sighed. "You are forgetting everything that's good. You're forgetting your happiness."

He shook his head, his hair crowned with droplets of water. "Teyla hates me."

Liliana's gaze morphed with concern. "That's not true."

"I can't... she..." He let out a frustrated sigh. "It's not fair."

"No, it isn't. But that doesn't change the fact that it is. You've been through so much, Ronon, but I know you, and I know how very strong you are. Feel the pain of what you've endured, acknowledge it, and then let it pass."

He looked back out to the storm. "You don't understand."

"_What_ don't I understand, Ronon?"

"That I'm not _me_ anymore!" He had whipped his head around to face her and paused at Liliana's challenging expression. "I don't even recognize myself, Liliana. Everything's too quiet. I'm waiting for something bad to happen all the time. I don't feel safe. I feel naked. I don't even know whose thoughts are in my head half the time."

"Ronon – "

"I was unfaithful to her, Liliana! I was sick and broken and couldn't stop her. I couldn't even stop my_self_."

Liliana furrowed her brow at the squeak in his voice at the last sentence. "From what?"

"From – " He cut himself off, his cheeks reddening. "From... reacting. Like I enjoyed it."

Realization relaxed Liliana's face. "Another woman touched you."

He closed his eyes and nodded, once more studying the railing as he ran his thumbnail over it.

Liliana was quiet for a moment, the pieces of the puzzle falling together as she tucked her damp hair behind her ears. "Does Teyla know?"

Ronon shook his head. "I couldn't tell her..."

The defeat in his shoulders and the weakness in his voice lit a fire in Liliana's breast. Her voice was firm. "Ronon."

The Satedan ignored her.

"Ronon, look at me."

He hesitantly did so, his cheeks still burning with shame.

"What she did to you was against your will and it is not your fault that your body reacted."

"Yes, it is."

"Weren't you listening to anything I just said? Your body is _not_ you."

Ronon blinked, the whimper in his eyes beginning to subside as he took in her words. A rivulet of water trickled down his temple and he wiped at it, suddenly becoming aware of his clothing being wet. Suddenly becoming aware of being cold. Suddenly becoming aware of his body. Liliana's words slammed into him with clarity. If he really were only a body, he would have felt the cold and the wet overpowering his thoughts long ago.

Liliana reached up to cup his cheek. "I love you, Ronon. And so do Bo and Bri and Sanura and Curtis and Colonel Sheppard and Teyla... We're your family. What happened to you boils my blood. But it's not your fault, Ronon. You'll never be the same person you were before. That is worth mourning... but shed your tears and try to move on."

He leaned into her hand the slightest bit, his voice still cracking. "...I don't know how."

"You can start by remembering who you are and all you have done. Scars make us stronger."

Ronon nodded, his throat painfully tight. He pulled Liliana against him in a hug. Liliana didn't let go until Ronon pulled away long minutes later. Both were soaked to the bone and shivering, yet she didn't leave his side until he was ready to bid the storm goodbye. Once they were back inside and laughing lightly over their sopping clothes, Ronon was reminded of all Liliana had done for him, and all he knew she would do for him still, if he ever asked, and he realized that he was still capable of great trust.

_**Please review!**_


	32. XXXII Humming

**_Author's Note:_**_ Once again, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter! And fear not -- I definitely will finish this story and won't forget about it. Thank you to all who read and review! :)_

**XXXII. Humming**

Ronon sat in front of the mirror, holding a piece of paper in his hands. His hair was loose and fell to his shoulders. He had stripped down to his boxers and could feel the hair on his arms and back and chest beginning to stand on end from the chill of his room, but he made no move to cover himself. His eyes traveled over his reflection, marveling at how long it had been since he'd studied himself in a mirror.

He recalled one incident vividly – when he was getting ready for his first date with Melena when he was still a teenager. He remembered shaving as carefully as he could but nicking his chin anyway. He remembered embarrassing himself by practicing his smile. He didn't think twice about his appearance again until the two were wed a year later and he was struggling to get past how ridiculous he looked in traditional Satedan wedding garments.

But then Melena was lost and he ran... most of his twenties were a mosaic of memories of scavenging for food, building traps, hiding from people, scraping moss off of rock... until Teyla came. That was the second vivid memory he had of looking at his reflection. When he first came to Atlantis.

He hadn't properly seen himself for seven years. His body had gained bulk, his cheeks had lost their baby fat, and his hair was, well, gross. He remembered how brown the water in the shower ran day after day as he attempted to wash out years of his hair as his only pillow.

Ronon studied himself now, cocking his head at the dusting of goosebumps that was beginning to fade. He had the tall, lanky frame of his mother, and he could see the shades of her skin reflected in his own. He remembered the feel of her calloused hands when she would cup his face or rub his back, but her face was long since faded and he could no longer tell her features apart from Liliana's.

He studied his own expression, his eyes tracing the curve of his lips and brows that looked like his brother's. Except that his brother had been better-looking and knew it. He smiled faintly when he remembered Conor teasing him before he married Melena, telling him that he was stupid to be marrying at eighteen and that he'd be missing out on lots and lots of women. Conor had never understood how Ronon could be happy without lots and lots of women but rather with one woman who was stable, who made him laugh, who was strong-willed, who wanted to make a difference.

His eyes, he knew, were from his grandmother. He had only seen her a few times in his life before she died, but everyone recalled her piercing sea green eyes that stood out against her dark skin. As dark as rich soil.

While he didn't have the same wisdom in his eyes from his grandmother, nor the same lady-slaying looks as his brother, nor the command of language as his father, he was all that remained of them. Their ghosts were reflected in his features and in his heart.

The smooth, raised flesh of his lash scars licked around the sides of his ribcage and he studied the way they caught the light. The scar on his abdomen was purpling. The feeding scar on his chest was nearly gone but his skin still possessed the memory of the imprint as an autumn leaf stains the ground as it fades.

He let out a deep sigh and looked down to the piece of paper in his hands, reading it for the dozenth time. It was written in Liliana's slanting hand: _Your name is Ronon Dex. You come from Sateda. You are brave and strong and a true warrior. You are kind and gentle and full of laughter. You have made our lives better. We are blessed to know you. We love you and always will. You are better than everyone who has hurt you. You are better than everyone who has hurt you. You are better than everyone who has hurt you._

Reading and memorizing the note felt childish. Repeating the last three lines as he tried to fall asleep each night felt infantile. Relying on a piece of paper ever since Liliana had left the day before felt vulnerable. But believing every word made him feel invincible.

* * *

Teyla glanced at Ronon across the gym as he entered then she slugged the punching bag. Sweat slipped and slid down her face and torso as she punched and kicked, wanting to reach the point of being utterly spent where no anxiety could hold sway with her mind for she was too tired. Ronon disappeared into the locker room and Teyla let out a small cry as she roundhouse kicked the punching bag. He hadn't acknowledged her if he even saw her at all.

Just as well. She had nothing to say to him. Seeing him drowning himself in his own pain, slowly fading and limping away at every offer of help was draining her and she couldn't afford to be drained. Not after surviving as a slave, losing a child and leading a revolt. She had learned to steel her resolve and protect what was left of her faith in people.

A part of her felt guilty and she knew that she should want to help Ronon, to weather his storms, but she was too tired. Tired of seeing him in pain. Tired of feeling helpless. Tired of hating how their lives had shifted and drifted apart. He was a grown man and if this was the way he wanted things, then fine. They could both be selfish and lick their wounds in the dark. Alone.

Ronon came back out of the locker room and looked at her. Teyla held his gaze for a moment before giving the bag one last punch and stepping aside, grabbing her water bottle and towel and striding out, unable to keep the anger from her frame when she thought of how much she had sacrificed for him – how much time and effort and despair she had wasted.

The Satedan watched Teyla go then called after her. "Teyla?"

She paused, looking at him over her shoulder.

He parted his lips, wanting to say more, wanting to tell her that he didn't like to see her angry. But the breath came out empty and his shoulders slumped. She arched a brow and he merely shook his head.

Teyla looked away, feeling the fire within flare at Ronon letting yet another opportunity slip past, unable to make the effort for himself. For her. She straightened her spine and continued onwards, and Ronon felt a part of him leaving with her, tearing like old fabric.

* * *

_You are better than everyone who has hurt you._ Ronon sighed, setting the piece of paper down on his nightstand. His stomach twisted as he rolled onto his side. He had felt a dull ache inside ever since he had watched Teyla walk away that afternoon and now at night, with nothing left to distract himself but his own thoughts, the ache became a piercing pain in his heart.

He knew he was the reason for the thin lines that formed around her lips, for the sternness of her jaw, for the stiffness of her shoulders. Though he certainly didn't intend to, Ronon held power over Teyla unlike anyone before. She loved him and as such, he could crush or caress her with a single word. He knew his silence was hurting her but it wasn't his fault – he didn't ask her to love him. It wasn't fair that he still loved her, as well, yet was such a coward that he couldn't remind her of how he felt about her without feeling like the blood from his body had spilled at her feet.

_You are better than everyone who has hurt you. _He swiftly reminded himself as loathing stalked into his mind on taloned feet, grinning, ready to rip his heartstrings. Who else but a fiend would let the person they loved suffer so? Would let her walk away? Would hide in burning shame? He was fast becoming a man he despised.

_You are better than everyone who has hurt you. Including yourself._ Ronon stiffened. His only enemies now were his mind, his heart, his memories. He thought of Teyla's laugh and the smooth skin of her shoulders. He hastily climbed out of bed and walked out of his room before he could think twice about it.

His bare feet led him down the smooth, cool hallways of Atlantis. He hugged himself against the chill, realizing that he'd left his shirt behind and hoped that no one would waltz around the corner and see him in nothing but pajama pants. However the hour was late and the corridors were quiet.

Waving his hand in front of Teyla's door panel, he waited until the door swooshed open then stepped inside. Teyla lay on her bed, stirring from the noise of someone entering. His heart felt as if it would break one of his ribs as he watched her sleepy form, so perfectly flawed in the moonlight. Without a word, he crossed over to her bed and lay down beside her.

Teyla stiffened as he did so, squinting at him through her bleary eyes. "Ronon?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist and felt her shift to look at his face.

In the hoary light he could see the elegant curve of her cheekbone, the frizzyness of her slept-on hair, the confusion and timidity in her eyes. "What is wrong?"

He cupped her cheek in his hand, fighting to tell her everything that was welling in his breast. But the words were locked, snared by the healing tendrils of his heart. He smiled softly and gently pressed his lips against hers. Teyla was stiff for several heartbeats before she relaxed into his warmth, bringing her hand up to rest upon his. After a moment, Ronon reluctantly pulled away and Teyla reached out to stroke his cheek, searching his face in the pale light, running her knuckles over his stubble. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

A small smile tried to alight upon her lips then fluttered away before it showed. "Where have you been?"

He shook his head, struggling to harness his racing emotions as he saw the anger and hurt melting away from her face. His eyebrows twitched towards each other. "She lay on top of me."

"Who?"

"I don't want to say to her name."

Teyla let her hand slide off of his cheek as he leaned back to sit on his haunches. She climbed to her knees, tugging the covers onto her lap to keep in the heat of her body. His lips were pressed together and his back was slightly hunched, his eyed locked onto hers. She let out a sigh and looked down to his hand before lightly grabbing it and squeezing his fingers. "She said something crude and I feared she had indeed –"

"I couldn't stop her," he whispered with a tremble in his voice. "But I didn't want to. And it's made me so ugly. So ashamed."

Teyla shook her head. Her voice was firm. "You have _nothing_ to be ashamed of, Ronon."

"I've only ever been with you and my wife. I feel..." he trailed off, his eyes searching the room as they glistened.

"Disrespected," Teyla said and Ronon met her gaze again. "Violated. Hurt. Angry." She shook her head and sighed. "Wounded."

He solemnly nodded. "I've wanted to tell you, but... I didn't know what to say. It's like I was safe inside my skin my whole life, even as I was whipped and beaten and fed upon. But then one thing like that – one horrible thing – and suddenly my skin's not mine anymore. Like something was stolen or broken ... something...."

"Something sacred."

He nodded. "Yeah. Something sacred. And it's not fair."

"No, it is not." She rested her hand on his shoulder then pulled him into a hug and Ronon wrapped his arms around her, leaning into her small frame. "And though I am satisfied with having killed her, it does not fix what was done to you. But know that I do not think any less of you. In fact, I am proud of you, Ronon."

"I'm a coward."

"It is all right to be afraid. I thought I had lost you. I thought this was the end. Yet here you are, even though I can feel you shaking." She pulled away to meet his eyes with a smile. "I am proud of you."

She could barely hear him whisper "thank you." Letting out a deep sigh, Teyla waited until the glimmer in his eyes had faded before speaking again.

"I wish you had come to me sooner."

"I know... you deserve much better than me."

Teyla shook her head. "I do not want anyone else."

He leaned to rest his temple against hers, squeezing her hand. "Neither do I."

"What are we going to do?" she whispered, shifting so that their foreheads and noses rested against each other's.

Ronon shook his head a little and she could hear him sniffle, keeping his tears at bay. "I don't know how to surrender – to let you live inside of me."

"Nor do I..."

He closed his eyes and for several moments all they heard was each other's breaths and the beating of their own hearts. At length Ronon slid his hand down to her hip and rubbed her side before lying down, guiding her to follow him. She lay down beside him and lifted the covers to share. Ronon pressed himself against her warmth and brushed the hair off her cheek with a small smile. Teyla returned the expression then let it slowly fade as his hand slid over her shoulder, gently tugging her nightgown down her torso, baring her breast.

He bent down and kissed her collarbone and neck before hugging her, and she felt the wonderful warmth of his chest pressed against hers and smiled at the simple gesture. She kissed his lips and wrapped her arms around him before relaxing against his body while he combed his fingers through her hair. They could feel each other's hearts beating at different paces, speeding and slowing with their thoughts until they matched each other's drumming, humming together, lulling the two warriors to sleep.

_**Please review!**_


	33. XXXIII Cheering

**XXXIII. Cheering**

Rain was pattering against the window, slipping down the pane. It was three in the afternoon and the sky was gray and darkening with bruised clouds. Two weeks had passed since Ronon had come to Teyla, laying bare his fears, and ever since, she felt as if they could finally look at each other for the first time. They knew the other was afraid, but they also knew that the bond they'd forged from pain and survival was still strong, and that if they could still love each other after all they'd been through, then that love was worth holding onto to the last.

Teyla had walked the halls of Atlantis in a bit of a hazy dream, feeling the glow in her heart lightening her step and making her smile at everything even remotely beautiful. She knew it was because she was falling in love all over again, and the feeling was welcome, for she and Ronon had both changed a great deal, yet now had the luxury of time to spend together. To get to know their different selves and to return to the common ground of their affection. Their time together wasn't without set backs, nor without arguments, but the pleasant moments were worth all the more warmth for they were hard-earned.

She had seen Ronon at breakfast and he hadn't looked well, so Teyla decided against a workout that afternoon to see how her warrior was doing. She lightly knocked on the door before slipping into his room, smirking when she found him on the couch, frowning as he played with his xbox. "Ronon?"

He spared her a glance then groaned when his Halo soldier was killed. "I was just about to kill him."

"Who?" she asked, stepping over.

"Sheppard." He sighed let the controller rest in his lap while the game reloaded.

Teyla took her seat beside him and wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head on his shoulder in an embrace. His voice sounded as if he couldn't breathe through his nose. "How are you feeling?"

He didn't answer because the next round began and his soldier was up and running through the rocky landscape, trying to hunt out Sheppard's. Teyla couldn't help but chuckle a little as she watched the screen. She had tried to play several times in the past but failed to see the appeal of pretending to kill your friends. When Ronon's soldier was blown up again, he groaned and leaned back then quit.

Teyla smirked. He was pouting. "Better luck next time."

"Yeah right. He always wins."

"I'm sure he has had much more practice."

Ronon leaned his head against the back of the couch and looked to her. "I thought you were gonna go for a run."

"I changed my mind."

Ronon smiled and rested his forehead against hers.

Teyla's brows twitched slightly at the warmth of his skin. "Have you gone to see Dr. Keller?"

"It's just a cold."

"You should be resting." Teyla pulled away from him and rose. "Go lie down and I'll bring you something."

Where in the past Ronon might have argued and lied, insisting that he was fine, he obeyed instead, lethargically slumping over to his bed and flopping down. Teyla kissed his temple before heading to the commissary, taking amusement in Ronon allowing her to take care of him. Though she knew he had dropped some of his pretense of being a tough soldier as a result of Liliana's gentle hand, she also knew that his current docility was a reminder of how much he trusted and adored her. Despite being weak and vulnerable as he was ill, he not only didn't mind if Teyla was around him in such a state, but he accepted her compassion and loved her for it.

Teyla returned with a carton or orange juice and poured it into a cup before handing it to him. Ronon took it and drank the whole glass before thanking her and lying back down. Teyla climbed into bed next to him and felt his forehead again. "You are not terribly warm."

"I'm warm enough." He struggled out of his shirt and sighed. They lay in silence for a few moments before he lolled his head to look at her. "You don't have to stay here, you know."

"I know."

"I don't feel like doing anything. Just resting."

"I do not believe you."

He raised his brows. "What?"

"I know you. Even in rest you will be plotting strategies to kill Sheppard on Halo."

Ronon laughed, which made him cough and groan.

"Do you want more juice?"

He shook his head then snatched up a tissue and blew his nose. "I hate being sick."

"At least it makes you hold still."

"Huh?"

Teyla smirked. "Nothing."

"I hold still."

"Mmm hmm."

"I do."

"When?"

"All the time."

"Ronon," she said as she propped herself up on one elbow to study his face. "You cannot hold still for more than five minutes. Even when we watch a movie together, you are always squirming around and shifting your position and looking for food."

Ronon furrowed his brow. "I don't go looking for food."

"I watched you eat a Cheeto that you found in the crevice of the couch cushion."

Ronon groaned. "That was once. And you're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

She smirked and kissed the tip of his nose.

"I knew how old it was. It was from that afternoon."

"If we ever have a child, you will not eat pieces of food you discover in the couch. Understood?"

Ronon rolled over so that his back was to her. "You're such a dictator."

"Someone has to teach you to not be such a bear, rooting around for snacks."

"Fine. Then you can't do certain things, too."

"Like what?" she asked as she lay back down. "I am not the one who sets a bad example."

"Oh please. You laugh at me when I fall. You slap my ass in front of other people. You –"

"That was only once!"

"Yeah, well, if you do it in front of our kid, the kid's gonna think it's okay to hit."

"You said you liked it."

Ronon reached back and pinched whatever part of her he could reach, which happened to be her stomach. She swatted his hand away with a giggle then both fell quiet as the rain began to pelt against the windows in a loud pitter patter. The noise was soothing and Teyla scooted closer to Ronon, resting her hand on his arm and slowly rubbing his bicep, her mind wandering into a possible future where they did have a child and home of their own and a peaceful life where they could absolve each other of the deep scarring of their souls. Though she knew that neither would ever give up in their fight against the Wraith, she couldn't help but feel that they deserved a long respite after suffering so much under the hand of their own kind.

The lick of the whip had left permanent marks on Ronon's back, though under advice from Keller, Teyla had been rubbing vitamin E into the scars for the past few weeks, and she could swear they were becoming smaller. While the scars didn't bother her in the least, other than as a painful reminder of what her lover had endured, she knew that they were a source of some measure of shame for Ronon. She reached out to the nightstand and grabbed some oil, rubbing it onto her hands before smoothing it over the marks on his back.

Ronon didn't flinch and the muscles of his back hardly tensed, which made her smile, for in the past, no matter how gentle she was or how relaxed he tried to become, he couldn't help but grow taut at the press of her palms against an area that used to give him such pain. She kissed the back of his neck as she rubbed in the oil into his skin, so very proud of how far he had come. He showed more and more of his quirks and charm everyday, blossoming back into who he had been amongst the Espens, and Teyla couldn't adore him more.

His steady breathing soon told her that Ronon was asleep and she rested her hand on his side, closing her eyes relaxing behind him, willing her affection into his body to help him heal.

~*~

Green was growing where before the ground had been so trampled that not even the hardiest seed could survive. In the absence of hundreds of slaves milling about, the barracks were being slowly reclaimed by the land. Teyla and Ronon hardly recognized them as they walked past, heading towards the eating area where food used to be served in rough troughs, as if for livestock. Ronon slowed as they approached and Teyla realized what had caught his eye. There were thousands of former slaves gathered around barbeque pits and musicians, dancing and eating and celebrating. Colorful banners hung between buildings and from trees, declaring freedom and jubilation. Teyla couldn't help but smile.

"Teyla!" a familiar voice called, and Teyla turned to find Binti dashing over to her. The two women embraced with squeals and giggles that morphed into tears on Binti's part. "We have waited for this day for long. Welcome. Welcome, sister."

Teyla inclined her head in a bow then gestured to Ronon. "Ronon, do you remember Binti?"

Ronon parted his lips but it was obvious that if he had known Binti once, the strain of his fever and time spent away had erased her from his memory.

"I remember you, tall man," Binti offered with a smug expression. "I see where Teyla gets her inspiration."

The Athosian smirked. "How have you been, Binti?"

"Wonderful. The revolts were planet-wide, you know, so there is much rebuilding to do."

"You were brave to remain when so many others took up our offer of relocation."

"I have spilled my blood on this land. It is where I was born. It was safer for others to flee the blacklash of the drivers, but I had nothing and no one to lose. We have made our voices known and now it is written in the very laws of the government – slavery is outlawed. We may not yet have the rights of the others, but we will soon."

"I wish you the best, Binti," Ronon spoke up for the first time.

Binti grinned then gave him a small bow before ushering the two towards the gathered crowd. Several faces peered at Teyla, and when they recognized who she was, they sent a hissing message through the crowd so that the excitement built to a palpable level as people began to whoop and cheer and shout that Teyla Freedombringer was here.

Ronon couldn't help but laugh as a chant of "Tey-la! Tey-la! Tey-la!" erupted from the crowd and Teyla took on the expression of a surprised turtle. Binti guided her up onto a stage and Ronon helped her ascend the stairs but remained with the crowd below, despite her threatening looks that tried to coerce him to share in the gazes of so many.

"Brothers! Sisters!" Binti shouted, calming the crowd. "Teyla Freedombringer has returned! Teyla Freedombringer walks among us!"

The crowd erupted into an ecstatic roar, making Ronon laugh and tempting him to cover his ears. Several shouted out calls of welcome, and one woman even screeched that Teyla was a goddess, which made the Athosian laugh. She raised her arm to quiet the crowd, and silence fell almost immediately. Appearing baffled by her own power, Teyla's expression turned sober.

"You are a free people," Teyla began, "but you did not need me to tell you so, for you were free from the moment you were born. Free with thought, free with will, and now, free with your lives." The crowd let out another cheering roar. "Brothers and sisters, I congratulate you on all you have achieved. May your vision continue to change the hearts of those who would stand against you. But I have no doubt that, united as you are, you will change this world even more than you already have, and your daughters and sons will grow up in a place where equality is revered, freedom is never taken for granted, and where all who wish to speak shall have a voice!"

Ronon jumped at the power of the roar that boomed behind him, feeling like the joy of the former slaves had slammed into him. The crowd began to chant Teyla's name once more, and this time he joined in, clapping in time with the others as her name beat out a tempo. Binti raised her voice in a strained, howling song that the crowd immediately recognized and began to sing along. Ronon was confused for a moment until he remembered the song as a tune he had often heard in the fields, though the lyrics were new to him. Teyla raised her voice to join Binti's in leading the tune.

"I call out to my brother,

I say 'Don't be long.'

I cry out to my mother,

I say 'Make me strong.'

I cry out to my father,

I say 'I sing your song.'

Hands are bleeding',

But my heart is strong.

Back is broken,

But my faith lives on.

So long as I have my soul,

I'll never be gone."

I call out to my sister,

I say 'Where you gone?'

I call out to my brother,

I say 'Don't be long.'

I cry out to my mother,

I say 'Make me strong.'

I cry out to my father,

I say 'I sing your song.'

My hands are bleedin'

But my heart is strong.

When we carry each other

Love lives on.

Oh, when we carry each other

Love lives on."

Ronon clapped in time with the others, smiling up at Teyla as she started the song again. People behind him were shouting out their agreement and enthusiasm at the power of the words, but despite all of the noise and momentum and change, what Ronon treasured most was the pride and jubilation shining in Teyla's eyes.


	34. XXXIV Tantalizing

_**Author's Note:** This racy chapter is dedicated to my girl **LadyBozi**. Happy graduation, I'm so proud of you!_

**Branded Heart**

**XXXIV. Tantalizing**

The two warriors spent the night with the freed slaves, and at breakfast the following morning, Binti teasingly asked if she would be invited to their bonding ceremony. The two smiled shyly, and Teyla tensed a little, for she had not discussed the subject with Ronon since he had pulled away months ago. Yet glancing at him now, she saw no trepidation in his eyes and he snaked his hand around her waist to hold her closer. Teyla's smile blossomed and she laughed and the expression on her face was so joyous that Binti laughed, as well, shaking her head.

"If I ever get so lost in a man, you have my permission to slap me awake," Binti said with a laugh.

"That is where you are wrong," Teyla said, turning to smile at Ronon. "I was asleep before. Now I am awake."

Almost before she had finished, Ronon kissed her several times, and Binti half-rolled her eyes as she chuckled.

The celebrations continued on throughout the afternoon, and there was much feasting and celebrating to be done. When the sun was high, Ronon grabbed Teyla's hand and led her to a patch of young grass where several were dancing to a lively tune. He immediately twirled her and Teyla couldn't stop grinning as she and Ronon made up their own dance, twirling and waltzing and dipping at will. Several others were watching, and had the two noticed, they might have been embarrassed, but as it was, they only had eyes for each other.

The afternoon was warm, and the two were sweating by the time the tune slowed and they held each other close, swaying to the soothing music. Teyla rested her temple against Ronon's chest, closing her eyes as she breathed in the earthy scent of sun and sweat on his skin, reveling in the press of his damp body pressed against hers. The scent reminded her of making love, and a sudden craving to taste his body engulfed her as he ran his fingers through her hair. They had only made love once, and as much as she had enjoyed it, it had been a strained, desperate rush of passion, dampened by the silence they were forced to maintain. She longed to experience that passion again with the leisure of taking her time to feel the strength of her lover's body.

If Ronon had similar thoughts, he didn't show them, but he rested his hand on her lower back when she allowed hers to slip south, stroking his backside, not caring who saw. When the dance ended, he guided her hands into his and bent down to kiss her. She fought to keep from leaning into the touch of his lips, from slipping her tongue into his mouth, and when he pulled away and she no longer smelled his musk, she felt the bitter dip of disappointment within.

As she followed Ronon off the dance field and couldn't take her eyes off of his backside as he strolled in front of her, she decided to pounce on him as soon as they were alone. Unfortunately, that moment didn't come. The freed slaves continued their celebration of her presence, and she spent much of the day speaking to strangers whose lives had been touched by her efforts. While she was thus engaged, Ronon wandered off.

He strolled along the dirt paths beaten into the ground by thousands of feet, wandering into a field he and Teyla had worked months ago. The crop was dying, its leaves dried and its berries shriveled. He fingered one of the crisp leaves and gazed out across the vast expanse of the field, the scents flooding him with the memories of the shouts of drivers and the desperate songs of the slaves. Moving on, he came to the edge of the field by the river and figured it was the river the drivers had dumped him into after they figured he was near death. He crouched on the bank and slipped his hands into the water, surprised by how cold it was. Splashing it over his face, he closed his eyes and focused on the tickling sensation of the droplets trickling down his warm neck.

The scents of the riparian plants reminded him of the river by the Espens cabin, and of the many happy days he had shared with those blonde-haired girls. They were still several miles away, but he was closer to them now than he had been in a long time. He had half a mind to convince Teyla to go visit them with him when he opened his eyes and caught sight of something that made the bottom of his stomach drop out.

It was a stump, and an unremarkable one at that, save for the fact that it was not attached to the ground by dead roots. It had been rolled out of the way from some other location. Rising, Ronon took several timid steps towards it and felt his stomach tighten as he noticed the darkness of the surface. He ran his fingers over what should have been the coarseness of cut wood, but instead felt the smoothness that only comes from being touched again and again and again. He wondered if the darkness on the smoothed surface was from the grime of human skin. Like many others, Ronon had been forced against the wood as he was brutally whipped.

The crack of the leather echoed in his mind, making his insides twitch as he recalled the heated sensation of his flesh being shredded off of his back, his blood trickling down, soaking his waistline, and the burning cold of air touching his wounds. He pulled his hand away from the stump and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. Teyla had told him time and again that his scars were fading. It was over now.

He opened his eyes again and looked at the stump. "You're just wood," he whispered. Part of him wanted to roll the round into the river, or to burn it, but from the small holes in the sides, he could see that it was already being made into a home for insects. It would be taken down, piece by piece, returning to the earth, and that was enough.

Teyla noted Ronon's somber expression when he returned and she knew it was time to head back to Atlantis. She bid Binti and the others farewell and after over an hour of goodbyes and promises to return, she was finally able to leave with Ronon. The Jumper ride back to the city was quiet, and the steady hum of the ship's engines was soothing after all of the noise of the celebrations. Still full from feasting, Teyla and Ronon returned to their quarters and showered.

Darkness had descended outside, and as Teyla sat on the bed, combing her fingers through her damp hair, she remembered her thoughts from earlier in the day. Ronon was in the shower, and she was tempted to shrug off her nightgown slip in with him. As she was trying to gather up the confidence to do so, she heard the water turn off and she knew she had missed her chance. Sighing, she bit her lip, trying to think of a way to bring up the subject without sounding like she was making demands.

Ronon emerged from the bathroom several minutes later, a towel around his waist. He grabbed some clothes out of a drawer and Teyla realized that she was staring at the smooth skin of his waist, her eyes hungry for the contrast of his brown against the white towel. She had never seen a color more rich and beautiful and she wanted to touch it. She wanted to kiss it. To her despair, Ronon stepped back into the bathroom and came back out in a T-shirt and pajama pants, most of his alluring skin covered.

He plopped down on his stomach on the mattress beside her with a sigh and Teyla felt stiff as his breath brushed against her bare arm. He sounded tired, so she decided once again that she shouldn't bother him tonight. Just a she was about to pull back the covers, she felt his knuckles on her tricep, stroking her muscle. The hair on the back of her neck rose and a pleasant shiver shuddered throughout her body. She didn't want him to stop, but he did as he sat up and hugged her from behind. He kissed her neck and his body was warm against hers, but as affectionate as he was, there was no lust behind the act. "I'm so proud of you," he murmured against her skin, and she smiled despite her disappointment.

_It takes two, you know_, a voice inside her head said, and she realized that she was tired of waiting for the perfect moment. Nothing in life was perfect, anyway. She leaned into his embrace and rubbed her thumb along his arm for a few seconds before turning around to face him. "Take off your clothes," she whispered.

Ronon's sleepily enamored expression enlivened with surprise. "Wha –"

Teyla cut off his question by pressing her lips against his and slipping her hand under the waist of his pants. It was far from tactful but he got the message and kissed her back as he wiggled out of the clothing he had just put on until he was in his underwear. She grabbed his hands and guided them under her nightgown, resting them against her ribcage on either side of her breasts. Slipping one knee over his hip, she straddled him and pressed her lips against his once more, feeling his fingers pressing onto her flesh as she did so, but his hands didn't move. She wanted them to touch her, to stroke her, to explore every part of her body, but either out of shyness or lack of desire, he didn't.

She pulled her own nightgown off and pressed her loins against his, making her intentions clear, hoping to feel his body react despite the look of hesitation on his face. He parted his lips to speak but she silenced him with a kiss, massaging his lower lip with her tongue, fire burning in her mouth as she moved her kisses down the side of his face, his neck, his chest, nipping as she did so. His hands rested on her back, and though she could feel his finger press against her with pleasure as she worked her way down his abdomen, he offered no further communication.

Pausing to suck on his bellybutton, she was pleased when a soft gasp escaped, and she kissed her way down to the hemline of his waist. Looking back up at him, she slipped her hand under the elastic and slowly pulled the garment off before wiggling out of her own. His hands slid down to her backside and she arched her back feeling a thrill at the touch and the press of his skin against hers. He began to stiffen beneath her and she let out a soft gasp of encouragement, leaning forward to massage his lips with hers.

Lifting his hips to rub against her, she stroked his body with her own, feeling the heat between them intensify. She wanted him to plunge into her and explore every angle to make her moan so that she would have to brace herself against him. She wanted their sweat to mingle and to grow hoarse with cries of primal pleasure, but he didn't dare move any more than he had, and despite her efforts, his muscles were tense beneath her, as if he were holding himself back. A flush of embarrassment coursed through her as she realized that maybe he really was too tired, or maybe he didn't find her attractive enough to match her passion. Her face began to burn and she was about to climb off of him when her fingers slid over the scar on his abdomen.

She remembered he'd been injured when he was forced to fight, and that the wound had been slow to heal because of infection from his horrible surroundings in his cell. Fighting was not all he had been forced to do, she remembered with a rush of understanding, and his words came back to her. _She lay on top of me. I don't want to say her name. I couldn't stop her. But I didn't want to. And it's made me so ugly. So ashamed_. Danella. The woman had stripped him of his dignity and honor without a word, forcing his body to obey the commands of her desire. _And here I am doing the same thing… _Teyla realized with a rush of shame.

Ronon had noticed the distraction in her eyes and reached up run his fingers through her hair, drawing her back into her body and back to him. He leaned up and kissed her, his other hand slipping down to cup her backside, and she realized this was nothing like what had happened with Danella. He was afraid and fighting through his memories of her, but he was saying yes. Teyla couldn't help but smile as she kissed him back. There would be no carnal plundering tonight, so she shifted her attention from her own desire to his. She didn't need words to read his fears, only his body, so she focused on his touch against her.

Shifting into position, she slid over him, feeling his flesh press against her walls inside, quickly erasing any discomfort and heating her within, filling her with the sensation of being whole. She couldn't fight the smile from her face at the wonderful connection of their bodies becoming one. Ronon's expression wasn't half as blissful, but instead was suddenly deadened by a wanton look in his eyes as his hands slid to her hips. He arched his pelvis to follow her as she leaned forward and began to plant kisses on his chest, stroking his skin, feeling the soft press of his ribs against the surface. Their hips began to gently rock together in a slow, steady rhythm, sending muffled spurts of pleasure through their bodies.

Teyla ignored her temptation to quicken the rhythm, to deepen the stroke, for she dared not do much else until she knew her lover trusted her completely. Ronon's side flinched when she ran her fingers over the scar there, and she knew that if he noticed her touch despite the indulgence of their loins, then he wasn't surrendering his body to their pleasure. She lightly kissed the scar, and when he didn't flinch again, she slowly ran her tongue across, gently sucking at the healed flesh. When she pulled her lips away and ran her fingers over the spot again, he did not flinch. She continued searching his flesh with her hands and lips, hunting out places that made him cringe, healing them with her kisses. She listened to the fears of his body and calmed them, one by one, until at last she could touch him where she wished and instead of flinching, his flesh asked for more.

Ronon leaned up to kiss her and entwined his fingers with hers, holding her hands for a moment before lying back down, pinning himself beneath her, willfully surrendering to her desire and her lead. After having longed to be in reversed positions for so long, Teyla was shocked by how much the lust in his eyes and the sensation of his powerful body prone beneath hers made her desire skyrocket. He trusted her, and his heaving breast said that he was hers for the taking.

Without warning, she began to hammer herself against him, feeling his flesh slap hers as he struggled to keep up with her strokes. He went deeper and deeper inside of her every time their hips met, making them both groan, wanting more, and though she gasped every time his pelvis smacked hers, deepening the stroke, she wanted to be in charge. She wanted to feel his raw power writhing beneath her as she showed him the meaning of vigor.

Her stomach muscles began to burn as she slammed down harder, groaning as he delved deeper than ever. Her hands were like twin vices and she could feel his fingers digging into her knuckles as he panted out a whimper of such unrestrained pleasure that she felt her body shudder around his in muted ecstasy. The look in his eye told her that though he was still firm, he wouldn't be able to restrain himself much longer at this rate.

She stopped moving and let her stomach muscles recover as she panted against him, shifting her grip on his hands. What she intended to be a brief respite before she released him turned into a torturous lesson of self-control. Ronon's hips still rocked weakly against her, involuntarily, but after they caught their breath, he attempted to build their rhythm again with a half-hearted thrusts. She rested a hand on his hip and stilled him, kissing his lips. There was enough heat in his flesh to continue, but he was already cooling, and if she made him wait for too long, he would cool off completely and exhaustion would take over. She moved her hips slowly, up and down, making him groan and tighten his fingers around hers. With each torturously slow stroke, she could feel his warmth turning back into heat, and with each panted gasp from his lips, her desire returned. She tightened herself inside and slowly slid down as far as she could. Her lover let out such a squeaky gasp that she closed her eyes and felt herself spasm around him involuntarily.

She was pleasuring him, reminding him that his body belonged to him, that despite the harm done to it by others, it was still just as beautiful and pure as the first time they made love. She was strong, a warrior, and he was hers, and she wanted him to feel her strength and her passion and know that she would never let anyone touch him ever again.

He let out another soft squeak as he breathed and the helplessness of his whimper returned her strength. She tightened her abdomen and rammed herself against him, feeling his muscles contract beneath her as he braced himself from the force of the motion. His hands constricted but she rose and slammed down again before he could even let out a gasp. Breathing hard, several involuntary grunts escaped her throat as she pounded down, hammering him into the mattress as hard as she could. She was being rough and she knew it but she couldn't stop, and the gasps and moans coming from Ronon, though they barely reached her ears over her own panting, told her that he was enjoying every second of it.

His body was rigid beneath hers, and his hardened muscles ignited more lust within her, even as soreness began to set in as she slammed down again and again. Each stroke was hotter than the last, and she could feel their control swiftly slipping away. She was aware of nothing other than the primal pounding of their loins and the insatiable hunger inside as she delved to feel more and more of him, faster and harder. Ronon arched his back, trying to press his body as deeply into hers as possible, and she could feel his sweaty palms rubbing against hers as he writhed and squirmed, hunting for an outlet for his passion, for a release. He was arched as high as he could, and Teyla slammed down hard, pinning him to the mattress as an unrestrained cry of pleasure tore from his throat. Ronon shuddered beneath her, filling her with warmth inside. The sheer rapture of his cry, and knowing that she was the source of it, unraveled her again. While he was hard and shaking, she drove herself down several more times as his cry still filled her ears, then felt her entire body convulse, causing her to arch as electric pleasure coursed through her. For several quickened heartbeats, she couldn't control her contracting body or her cries as the most addictively satisfying power she'd ever felt surged thorough her, crippling her senses.

Once she could move, she had to let go of Ronon's hands and grab onto his hips to keep from losing her seat. She inhaled with a hoarse groan and heard him choke out a tortured exhale beneath her, resting his hands over hers to keep her mounted in place as the two continued to shudder from a dozen tantalizing aftershocks that sent a tickling chill coursing from her loins all the way up to the hair on her head. The beautiful rigidity of their muscles relaxed and she slumped forward, suddenly exhausted. She smiled through her mess of damp hair and slid her hips off of his pelvis until he was no longer inside of her, then scooted forward to rest her sweaty body against his chest, her thighs wrapped around his hips, unable to bring herself to pull away just yet. He rested a hand on the small of her back before stroking her rump, still quivering slightly as he tried to catch his breath, letting out a groan so satisfied that she wished she had the energy to take him all over again.

Teyla had never been filled with such ecstatic happiness, nor felt her body continue to tremble with unexpected tremors of pleasure as she felt Ronon's heart hammering against his sweaty chest. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, had ever touched, had ever felt. He stroked her hair with a shaking hand and she felt the coolness of the night air against her scalp. After several minutes, he rolled onto his side, gently guiding her to lie beside him, then kissed her forehead, her lips, her neck. He wrapped a leg over hers and sighed deeply, his eyes drifting shut. Teyla kissed him again and closed her eyes, memorizing the scent of his sweat and satisfaction.

_**Please review!**_


	35. XXXV Staring

**XXXV. Staring**

Teyla awoke to kisses on her bare shoulders and she smiled without opening her eyes. She snuggled close to Ronon and sighed against his skin, not wanting to know what time it was, for she didn't want to get up. She wanted to remain as she was, wrapped up in the warmth of the man who was her other half.

He rubbed her bare back and she felt him shift so that their faces were level and she opened her eyes. Daylight streamed into their room and she knew morning had already passed. She didn't look at the clock for her gaze was locked on the jade green eyes of her lover's. "I'm bound to you," he said hoarsely.

"And I to you," she replied with a smile. Her happy expression faded as she realized there were tears in his eyes. "Ronon?"

"You have given me everything… you have cared for me more than I could ever imagine. And I just want to be with you. Forever. The thought of not seeing you again…" His words were cut off as his throat tightened.

Teyla rested a hand on the side of his cheek and wiped away one of his tears with her thumb. "Shh. Why would I not see you again?"

"I don't know," he squeaked. "But bad things happen. And I love you more than anything. I miss you even when I'm looking at you."

She gave him a pained smile and hugged him tightly, realizing that the same irrational emotion was beginning to stir inside of her, as well. "I love you, too, Ronon. More than anything. Ever. And I will not leave your side."

His arms tightened around her and he held her for several long moments before he pulled back to look at her with a sniffle. "I'm so tired. I'm afraid to trust anything good. It has always been a lie."

"This is no lie. You have endured more hardship in your short life than most people ever experience in a long life. It would be foolish to deny as such. But you must never give up hope." He nodded, swallowing hard. "We can never know what lies ahead, so we must live each day as if it is our last, for one day it will be."

His steady expression crumpled at her words as more tears escaped and she realized she had said the wrong thing. "I don't want this to end."

"No, Ronon…" Her own throat was growing tight now and she fought to keep tears from her eyes. "Let us not talk of such things. We are here, we are young, we are alive." She kissed away his tears. "And that is all that matters. We have many happy days before us."

Ronon shifted to clasp her hand between his and hug it to his chest. "Teyla, I want to bind myself to you. Forever. Will you have me?"

A wide grin split her face. "Yes, of course I will." She kissed him on the lips. "You fool, of course I will," she added with a laugh which he cut off with a kiss.

Sheppard and McKay sat on the couch, waiting for Ronon to come online to play Halo with them. "This is a waste of time," McKay griped. "Just text him."

"I already did."

"And he didn't answer?"

"He didn't get it. His phone's off."

"Then just go to his room. What else could he possibly be doing that's more entertaining than Halo?"

Sheppard sighed and rubbed his eyes before glancing at the time. They now only had about forty-five minutes of playing time. "Just forget it. I'm gonna go for a run."

"What?" McKay looked as if Sheppard had just threatened to kill his cat. "No. Fine. I'll go talk to him. The lazy ass is probably still asleep. Just… give me a minute."

McKay bustled out and Sheppard got himself a drink of water. He knew that Teyla and Ronon had attended celebrations on the planet of their enslavement and wondered how late the two had been out. It was already 1:15 in the afternoon and Ronon was usually an early riser. The realization of how uncharacteristic Ronon's behavior was began to set in, and Sheppard worried that the Satedan had been injured offworld. Just as visions of gunfire and blood streaked across his imagination, his door swooshed open.

A very stiff Rodney entered and slowly stepped into the room. His face was pale and he didn't look at Sheppard as he awkwardly sank onto the couch.

Sheppard felt cold panic wash over him. "Oh my God… he's dead."

"No…" McKay said so quietly that it was almost a whisper. "Definitely not dead."

Sheppard furrowed his brow and took a step forward. "Is he in the infirmary?"

"No," McKay answered, still sounding detached. "Though he likely will be soon judging by what I heard."

Sheppard stared at his friend, his panic beginning to subside, yet McKay's stiffness still alarmed him. "Rodney?"

McKay reluctantly looked to Sheppard, his cheeks coloring ever so slightly. His usual cadence returned to his voice. "Look, I only listened because I thought someone was getting hurt, okay!"

"Listened to what?"

"Outside his door! It sounded like a beating but…" He made an odd gesture with his eyes.

Sheppard thought Rodney was gesturing to the portrait on the wall and turned his gaze to Johnny Cash. He looked back at Rodney, even more confused. McKay let out an exasperated sigh. "They were… you know…"

The puzzle pieces finally slid together and Sheppard laughed, both at his own unexpected naiveté and at McKay's awkward discovery.

"It's not funny!" Rodney squeaked. "They're acting like wild animals – I thought for sure one of them was being killed!"

Sheppard held up a hand. "Okay, no more details. That's freaking hilarious, Rodney."

"No, it isn't! Now I'm going to have the mental image in my head!"

"It'll probably do you some good."

"What?"

"Nothing. Listen, Rodney, just pretend you didn't hear anything. You'll just embarrass yourself."

"Gladly."

The two didn't see the lovers until the they finally emerged for dinner. They strolled into the commissary hand in hand, not appearing any worse for wear. Sheppard and McKay were seated on the other side of the dining area. Sheppard gestured to the two by tipping his head and when McKay caught a glimpse of them, he turned red and nearly choked on his hamburger, making Sheppard chuckle.

"God, I can't even look at them…" Rodney muttered.

"Uh oh…"

McKay's frown deepened at Sheppard's expression and he glanced over his shoulder to see that the two were making their way over to sit with them. Sheppard arched a brow in warning to McKay and the balding man scooted over to make room.

Sheppard wiped the cautioning expression off his face just in time to shift it into a smile as the two Pegasus galaxy natives arrived. "Hey you two, how were the celebrations?"

"Wonderful," Teyla said as she sat down next to Rodney, who was staring at his plate. Ronon took a seat beside Sheppard who clapped him on the back. "We very much enjoyed ourselves," the Athosian continued.

"Did you?" McKay asked. His voice was higher-pitched than normal, causing the other three to look at him. His pale cheeks colored and he hunched over his food once more.

"Well, you're a hero, Teyla. And I mean that. You deserve every happiness that comes your way. Both of you do," Sheppard said with a look at Ronon, as well.

"Thanks, Sheppard. Right back atcha."

Teyla sighed and winced a little as she stretched her back, and Sheppard shot Rodney a warning look as he caught the other man wincing and looking away from her. "Though I must admit, it is pleasant to be back to much quieter surroundings."

McKay cleared his throat after he took a sip of water.

Ronon noticed the odd glances the scientist was giving his soon to be wife, and despite the fact that he counted Rodney as one of his closest friends, he bristled inside and realized he was ready to pound the other man if need be. Sheppard could feel the Satedan tensing beside him and cleared his throat, as well. "What sort of celebrations did they have, Ronon?"

"I dunno."

Sheppard slowly looked to him, dismayed to see that Ronon's gaze was still locked on Rodney who was trying to finish his meal without looking at anyone. "You don't know? Weren't you there?"

"Dancing," Teyla said with a slight line between her brows as she looked at the three men. "Dancing, singing, feasting. There were many who wished to make my acquaintance."

Ronon's face suddenly softened as he returned his attention to Teyla with a smile in his eyes. "Not just many. About the whole planet wanted to meet you."

Sheppard's shoulders relaxed as Teyla's simple words managed to deflate the tension building in Ronon. Teyla smiled shyly. "You must be proud of her," Sheppard said.

"I couldn't be prouder."

"Yes, it's quite…" McKay stuttered without looking at anyone. "Quite the thing to be proud of."

Teyla spared the scientist a sidelong glance then went back to eating.

"Hey," Ronon said to Sheppard. "Sorry I missed your message. I keep forgetting I have that com device."

Sheppard smirked. "It's a cell phone."

"Right."

"Eh, don't worry about it."

"I'm sure you were busy," McKay added, glancing up and giving them all a fleeting look. When everyone just stared at him, he raised his brows. "You know… doing… things that busy people do…"

"How about you, Rodney?" Teyla asked. "What have you been up to?"

"Me? Oh, well, I happen to have come up with a new system code to re-route the power from the sublight generators to be more efficient. It's quite ingenious, really. That computer virus we got last week really ravaged the system…" He trailed off, his cheeks tinged with rose. "I mean, it didn't really ravage it, but it did its best to bring the system to its knees… no, not knees… but it hammered it hard… oh, God." He stared into space.

"Sure," was Ronon's only response. He shared a confused look with Sheppard.

Teyla shook her head. "Ronon, would you like some dessert?"

"What is it?"

"Jell-O. I find it far from satisfying, but there are always other options," she said with a smirk, lifting her hand to point at the kitchen where brownies were being baked.

"Oh God!" McKay cried, dropping his silverware and holding either side of his face. "Can you at least avoid talking about it at the dinner table?"

Ronon furrowed his brow and leaned over to whisper to Sheppard. "So, is he on a diet or…?"

"No, Ronon, I am not on a diet! Wait, why? Do you think I should be?" McKay suddenly looked like a deer in the headlights.

"No, Rodney," Teyla assured him. "Though I am sorry if my mention of brownies in the oven has upset you."

"Literally," Sheppard growled, trying to avert what he knew was about to happen.

"Oh…" McKay said, suddenly contrite. "Right. Chocolaty squares of goodness. Mmm. Delicious."

Teyla furrowed her brow and shook her head. "I am sorry, Rodney… is something wrong? You seem most uncomfortable."

"No…" he said in a high-pitched voice, his eyes wide. "Nothing is wrong, why would you think that?"

Teyla and Ronon exchanged a glance.

McKay's face crumpled as he broke. "All right! Fine! I admit it! I heard you two this afternoon. There, I said it! Can I leave now?"

Sheppard hung his head and the two warriors narrowed their eyes. "Heard what?" Ronon asked.

"You two!" McKay shouted. "Going at it like lions! Or… rabbits… rabbits that sound like lions…"

The two shared a confused glance, each trying to remember what a lion and a rabbit was.

McKay looked incredulous to their ignorance. "Oh, for God's sake. Sex! I heard you two having wild sex!" Teyla's eyes widened as her cheeks flushed and Ronon dropped his fork and froze. Sheppard hoped neither of them noticed that everyone at nearby tables was staring at Rodney's outburst. McKay immediately lowered his gaze. "Look, it's not like I meant to. I was coming to see if you wanted to play Halo… oh God… coming…" He held a hand over his eyes.

"Rodney," Sheppard growled before glancing at the two natives. He'd never seen them look more mortified in his life. Teyla appeared incapable of speech and Ronon looked like a cornered child. He flipped his plate of food onto Rodney then sprinted out of the cafeteria. "You shouldn't have said anything," Sheppard snarled at his teammate.

Teyla slowly tucked her hair behind her ears and rose. "Colonel Sheppard is correct." McKay tried to fling Ronon's food off of him. "Though I never intended to share that aspect of my life with you, I for one am not ashamed. We are to be wed and have every right to make love. The fact that you find it so distasteful says more about you than it does about us, Rodney."

"That is true," Sheppard said, raising his brows.

"Ronon's gonna kill me," McKay murmured under his hands. "He'll hang me by my you-know-whats and torture me."

Sheppard nodded. "That's true, too."

Teyla narrowed her eyes at Sheppard then turned to Rodney. "I will make sure he does not. He is merely… shy."

"Are you kidding?" McKay said, finally looking up. "He was _growling_."

Sheppard smacked him hard enough to make McKay cry out.

"Thank you," Teyla said to Sheppard then looked back to McKay. "Just because you have never experienced something so satisfying, Rodney, does not give you the right to mock us." She arched a brow then strode calmly off.

Sheppard laughed once Teyla was out of earshot and McKay frowned deeply. Count on Teyla to make an insult sound like an understanding statement. "Wait… did she say they're getting hitched?"

**_Please review!_**


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